









L 4 


Did you wish to ask anything more, Jake? 

(Page 20) 




SEA ISLAND BOYS 


..BY... 

William Perry Brown 


AUTHOR OF 

“ Ralph Granger’s Fortune,” “ Florida Eads,” 
“ For King or Congress,” “ Vance Sevier,” Etc. 





ILLUSTRATED 


AKRON, OHIO 

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. 

NEW \ORK 1903 


CHICAGO 



\ 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS. 

Two Copies Receivec 

SEP 28 1903 

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CLASS CC XXc. No 

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'COPY 3, / j 


Copyright, 1903, 


BY 


THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 


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MADE BY 

THE WERNER COMPANY 
AKRON, OHIO 


I 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER. 


PAGE. 


I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 


V. 


VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 
XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 


The Bird-Hunter 7 

Talking Aaoss the Fence 15 

Uncle Ham Disapproves — Jacob in Disgrace . 26 

Sona Legare — Sid and I’is Father Put Their 
Heads Together — Going A-fishing . . . 38 

After The Mullet — An Interruption — A Sound 

of Oars 57 

Jacob Again Surprised — A Convict’s Ultimatum 69 
Mr. Ehrich’s Discomposure — Sidney, Jr., at the 

Wharf 83 

Sona and Clar’sy — The Boat and Fugitive . . 93 

Through the Window — Sona Takes a Ride — 

Brother Edgar Appears 104 

In the Swamp — Old Ja-Ja 123 


Back Home — Ehrich Sends a Note — Sidney 
Tries a Plan — How it Worked .... 135 

A Queer Hunt — Sona Refuses to Explain . . 158 

Jacob Hears a Tale — Mr. Ehrich Owns Up — 

At the Old Shell Mound 168 

At the Steamboat Landing — In Charleston . 188 

Paul Bears a Letter — Uncle Hiram Talks — Back 
to Bugle Point — Gillis Appears .... 200 

The Sharpie Making Seaward — An Exchange — 

Old Ham Grumbles 221 

The Sharpie Gives Chase — Old Ham Objects — 

A Sail 231 

Jacob Returns — The Officers are Angry — Baf- 
fled 240 

Jacob Goes Up to Town — Uncle Hiram Refuses 250 
Jacob is Persistent — A Letter from the Lawyer 260 

At the Lawyer’s Office . 270 

The Squire Comes Round — A New Partnership 282 

At Loon Beach — The Boat Race 291 

The Fog Comes Down — Where is the Sylph? 297 

The Wrec : of the Sylph — Disappointment — The 

Lightship 306 

Conclusion 314 


t 





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“Did you wish to ask anything more, Jake?” 

Frontispiece ^ 

A figure rose above the scrub, with violently 

waving arms 74 ^ 

Mr. Ehrich flung open the office door, thereby 

pushing over Sid and the barrel . . . .154 

All three shouted with a vigor born of despera- 
tion 254 




CHAPTER I. 


THE BIRD HUNTER. 

Waccamaw Island was shaped a good deal 
like one of the turkey oak leaves that, in the fall 
of the year, covered its backbone of a ridge, on 
which the wire-grass grew thin and scattering. 
There was a broad base of high ground, 
crowned with long-leafed pines, and also under- 
sprinkled with these same small oaks, that 
branched off into three marshy prongs, where 
the forest dwindled into red-stemmed clumps of 
saw-palmetto. These in turn debouched upon, 
without entering, a region of waving marsh, 
where the tall saw-grass rippled into blue and 
green undulations, as the ocean breeze came 
whipping over the surface of Waccamaw 
Sound. 


8 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


East and West Cuts separated Waccamaw 
from the larger domains of Edisto and Johns 
Islands. These last were, after all, only islands, 
too, hut of regal dimensions, embracing a score 
or more of large plantations, while the small is- 
let between was scarcely equal to a hundred- 
acre farm. 

Two miles to the southeastward one caught 
a narrow gleam of the heaving Atlantic, 
through the estuary that diagonally sliced the 
long strip of ocean beach into two long divi- 
sions, known as Loon and Mullet Beaches. 
Here were sundry summer cottages of the more 
inland planters, fronting the surge-beaten sands 
of the shore. Beyond the inlet and the red 
buoys marking the outer bar was the black- 
sided lightship, with her dismal fog syren and 
her blinking white-and-red light at night. 

On Johns Island was an old-fashioned, rusty- 
looking residence, that peered through the pines 
at Waccamaw in a stately sort of way, bearing 
itself to the water front with an air of battered 
yet unruffled respectability. Neglected gar- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


9 


dens, laid off in stilted, rectangular sections, 
lay on one side, and on the other were strung 
rows of stables, negro cabins and other out- 
buildings. 

What had once been a well-kept avenue now 
straggled in an unkempt sort of way through 
half a mile of pine woods to the broader road 
that led to the Charleston steamboat landing. 
On either side and beyond stretched hundreds 
of acres of corn and cotton-fields, now only cul- 
tivated in spots. 

The lower rice-fields were little better than 
mud-holes, and the miles of irrigating ditches 
and drains were mostly filled up, or used here 
and there, where their condition and the state 
of the land still admitted of the necessary flood- 
ing and withdrawal of water. 

A long point on Edisto, a mile or so from the 
old mansion on Johns, was belching forth a 
cloud of smoke from a tall chimney that rose 
out of a cluster of wooden buildings at the edge 
of the West Cut. This was Mr. Ehrich’s phos- 
phate factory, and out in Waccamaw Sound and 


10 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


up and down the lagoon, west of the islands, his 
dredge-boats were digging np the nodules of 
bone and rock that have rebuilt so many Sea 
Island fortunes since the loss of slave property 
at the time of the Civil War. 

Not far from the Ehrich Works was the 
Ehrich residence, pleasantly situated near the 
shore of the West Cut, and nearly opposite the 
ancient house we have alluded to, that had been 
known to several generations as Roanoak Hall, 
the ancestral seat of the much reduced Roanoak 
family. 

The Ehrich house was a modern-built villa, 
resplendent in paint and ginger-bread filigree, 
with e.very modern convenience, while the well- 
kept grounds and trim boathouse and wharf 
added an air of elegant precision td the water 
front, regardless of the half -rotten piling and 
dingy dug-out canoes that marked the marine 
accompaniments of the old Hall on the other 
side of Waccamaw Island, opposite. 

A young man— a very young man— noticed 
the startling contrast thus epitomized from his 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


11 


station on the black-jack ridge of the island, and 
smiled to himself in a bitter way. His clothing 
was coarse and well-worn, and he fanned him- 
self with a yellow hat, home-made, of palmetto 
leaves. 

Even his gun was an ancient muzzle-loader, 
though the barrels were as thin as paper, and of 
the style in vogue before breech-loaders and 
choke-boring became the fashion in fine fowling 
pieces. 

The only really up-to-date things about his 
person and equipment were his own fresh, keen, 
intelligent features and a liver-and-white 
pointer that had seated itself beside its master 
on a fire-scarred log of heart-pine. From their 
position, both residences could be partially seen, 
one on either hand, through the fringe of pines 
and live-oaks bordering the narrow marsh that 
lined the banks of the two cuts or channels. 

Near the Ehrich pier, a low, wall-sided yacht 
swung airily at her moorings, with a stern-line 
attached to the wharf. She was cat-rigged, with 
an abnormally long boom and a tapering mast, 


12 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


both of which appeared disproportionally large 
as compared with the size of the clinker-built 
hull. 

“I’ll bet Jake Ehrich carries a reef in that 
mainsail, whenever he catches himself out alone 
in that craft,’ ’ remarked the youth, in a semi- 
audible reverie. “He used to be a regular Miss 
Nancy at school, though that might have re- 
sulted because we old-family boys snubbed him 
so. It would have been more sensible for his 
father to have sent him to the city high school. 
But since the family got control of our Bugle 
Point plantation, they want to be upper crusts 
themselves. Well, why sliouldn ’t they ? ’ ’ 

He again contrasted Roanoak Hall and its 
almost squalid surroundings with the park-like 
demesne of its wealthier neighbor. Then he 
uttered an exclamation of disgust. 

“If it was not for father and Aunt Europa, 
I would cut the whole business, go to the city, 
and hustle for a live job there. What does blue 
blood amount to now, without money to back its 
pretensions? Pity the Ehrichs and us could not 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


13 


make a sort of trade. We want money, and they 
want blood— family position. If it was left to 
me, I would say amen in a hurry. But imagine 
the horror of the other Roanoaks at such a de- 
basing proposal.” 

He laughed merrily at his impossible conceit, 
then paused suddenly, as his dog rose slowly 
and walked to the farther end of the log, ap- 
pearing to stiffen into a keen attitude of atten- 
tion as it went. 

“Hey, Don! What is it— rabbit?” 

The pointer sprang from the log, and moved 
crouchingly through the wire-grass toward a 
rail fence that divided the island lengthwise. 

“Look here, Don,” said the boy. “We 
mustn’t trespass on our enemies’ land. That is 
the Ehrich side of the old Waccamaw.” 

When about a dozen yards from the fence, 
the pointer stopped, and, as his fine, keen nose 
slowly elevated itself, his tail at the same time 
was extended horizontally, remaining stiff as 
iron, and as motionless. 

The youth was now infected by his dog’s 


14 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


hunting instinct. He took up his gun and stole 
after, cocking the hammer as he went. At a 
short distance from the dog he paused and snap- 
ped his fingers softly. 

The pointer plunged forward through the 
wire-grass and a hevv of quail rose just on the 
other side of the fence, scattering in every direc- 
tion as they went. Two shots quickly followed, 
and three birds fell. 

As the sportsman threw his smoking shotgun 
into the hollow of his arm preparatory to re- 
loading, he muttered to himself : 

“That isn’t so had with father’s old Manton, 
after all. I wish the gun was a breech-loader 
though. S-s-t! Don! Go fetch!” 

The well-trained dog sprang upon the top- 
most rail, then paused, while his bristles rose at 
sight of an intruder approaching up the oppo- 
site slope. 

As the pointer plunged down to retrieve the 
nearest bird, a voice was heard ordering it 
back: 

“Hi! Get out there! That’s my bird!” 


CHAPTER II. 


TALKING ACROSS THE FENCE. 

At the sound of the high, rude tones the youth 
who had shot the quail advanced to the fence, 
while an angry frown overspread his face. He 
was met by a stout, short-limbed lad of thirteen 
years or thereabouts, who proceeded to pick up 
the first bird he came to, while Don glanced in- 
quiringly at his master. 

“Drop that bird!” said the hunter, sharply; 
then added, rather too personally, “Drop it, I 
say, or I’ll shoot that hump off your back!” 

But the lad picked up the bird, revealing by 
the movement the reason for the allusion in- 
cluded in the threat of the other boy. 

“Not much I don’t,” replied the newcomer, 


16 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


reaching for another bird, whereat the hunter 
made a sly signal to Don. “This is our land, 
and— Good gracious! Keep that dog away! 
Ouch ! Keep him off ! ’ ’ 

Don had jumped at the boy’s trousers, and 
was vigorously pulling him towards the fence, 
birds and all. 

“Better drop them, Sid Ehrich,” said the 
young hunter, laughing. “I told Don to re- 
trieve, and he’ll fetch them if he has to bring 
you in with them.” 

But Sid made a desperate effort and released 
himself from Don’s grasp at the expense of a 
large tear in his trousers. 

In his fright he dropped both birds and re- 
treated a few yards. Meanwhile Don gathered 
up the quail and brought them one by one to the 
fence, where he laid them down. 

“I guess you’re Paul Boanoak, ain’t you?” 
queried Sid, snappishly. “I heard you’d come 
down. ’ ’ 

‘ * That is my name, ’ ’ assured the other, quiet- 
ly putting the birds in a rusty-looking game hag. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


17 


“Let me advise you, Master Sidney, to kill your 
own birds when you want any. If they fall on 
our side of the island we won’t try to nab 
them.” 

“You Ve no right to anything on our side. I’ve 
heard my father say that. He says that old ser- 
vant of yours, Uncle Ham, has got to stop get- 
ting oysters on our side of Waccamaw Point. I 
think you ought to pay for these trousers. They 
are new and now they are ruined.’ ’ 

“Is that so?” laughed Paul. “Well, I’m 
sorry, but it is your own fault.” 

This good-natured remark seemed to enrage 
the boy beyond all restraint. He shook his fists 
at Paul, and jumped about in odd contortions, 
that exhibited his deformed back and shoulders 
in a more repulsive light than ever. 

Paul was struck with a sense of pity. Sid was 
still screaming forth half unintelligibly, when, 
before Paul could say a word, another young 
fellow of about Paul’s age appeared. 

He was tall and slender, with deep black eyes 
and a clear, dark complexion. His expression, 


18 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


even at present in his anger, was eminently 
handsome and refined, though tinctured with a 
melancholy that often adheres to a poetic and 
sensitive temperament. 

He nodded distantly to Paul, then seized Sid 
from behind by the collar and shook him vigor- 
ously. Then he turned the boy toward home, 
and, applying his foot by no means gently to the 
rear of those damaged knickerbockers, started 
him down the slope of the ridge at a round gait. 

“Now you get!” said he, shortly. 

And Sid continued to ‘ ‘ get ’ ’ until he reached 
a convenient pine, half-way down. 

Behind this he popped, in wholesome awe of 
his elder brother, yet unable to resist a tempta- 
tion to furtively listen to the further proceed- 
ings. 

The newcomer turned to Paul. 

4 ‘ I think this is the son of Squire Boanoak, is 
it not 1 ’ ’ he inquired, with cold politeness. 

“You know my name,” said Paul, carelessly. 
“I suppose you are Jake Ehrich. I recall you 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


19 


at school, though we did not move exactly in the 
same set, I believe.” 

Jacob was aware that Paul remembered him 
quite as well as he remembered Paul. But it 
suited the pretensions and strained relations of 
both to assume a difficulty in this respect. 

“Has my brother Sidney been impudent? If 
so, I hope you will make allowances. He is very 
young and somewhat spoiled.” 

“It was nothing. I shot some quail. They 
fell on your side of the fence. Sidney objected 
to Don’s retrieving them, and Don tore his 
trousers, I believe. That made Master Sidney 
mad, and he was letting off steam when you op- 
portunely arrived. Here, Don! Let’s go.” 

Paul turned away as if he had tired of this 
sort of forced conversation. 

Young Ehrich glanced back; but, as Sid was 
behind the pine, he did not see that youngster, 
though Sid was eagerly listening. 

Then Jacob looked at Paul, as the latter 
turned away, wdstfullv. A furtive expression of 
longing took possession of his face. Paul, sud- 


20 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


denly turning to see where Don was, noticed 
Jake before the latter could alter or conceal the 
mute invitation to closer understanding that had 
momentarily escaped him. 

Paul was struck with a vague pity, though he 
hardly realized what it was or why the feeling 
now usurped his usual disdain where the 
Ehrichs were concerned. 

“Did you wish to say anything more, Jake?” 
he asked, gently. 

“I— I wish you would not call me Jake,” was 
the hesitating answer. ‘ ‘ Can ’t you say J acob ?' ’ ’ 

“I could say Jacob, of course; but— we see so 
little of each other that it hardly amounts to 
much. Why do you care?” 

Jacob cast another quick glance after the in- 
visible Sidney, and turned again to Paul. This 
time all sense of repression had changed to 
eager entreaty. The boy’s face was trans- 
formed. 

“Because it— it sounds coarse. Don’t laugh. 
I know my folks seem coarse to you, because you 
do not like us. But I am not to blame for the 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


21 


way my father has acted. When I met yon at 
school, I was in hopes we might become friends. 
But we somehow kept apart. Now we are both 
home to stay, why couldn’t we get along to- 
gether! I always liked you, Paul. I’ve ad- 
mired you, too; but you don’t care—” 

“How do you know I don’t!” interrupted 
Paul, at the same time holding out his hand. “I 
like you now, Jake— I mean Jacob— though I 
hardly realized it before. You see the other fel- 
lows at school rather kicked at making friends, 
as well as I. But at home here, as long as we 
are neighbors, I don’t see why we shouldn’t get 
on.” 

“Certainly we will, if you will only meet me 
half-way. Your folks are high-toned, but hard 
up. My folks are not toney, but they have 
money. Isn ’t that about the size of it, Paul ! ’ ’ 

By this time Jacob’s new, assertive cordiality 
had revolutionized the feelings of Paul. At 
seventeen, one turns from one emotional ex- 
treme to another more quickly than later on in 
life. 


22 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


In a moment more the two young fellows 
were seated on the fence, chatting away as if 
their relations had always been thus. Both be- 
came agreeably surprised. 

Jacob found that Paul was quite a different 
boy from what Jacob had supposed, from the 
impressions derived at the aristocratic Beaufort 
Academy. There Paul was cold, defiant, and 
even' rude. Now he was genial, off-hand, and 
loquacious. 

Paul also felt that he had discovered a kind 
of social prize, where he did not look for much 
but rubbish. The refinement and intelligence 
that characterized Jacob were not at all like the 
boisterous rowdyism of Sidney junior, or the 
avaricious vulgarity of their father, Sidney sen- 
ior. 

At last Paul descended from the topmost rail. 

“I declare I must go!” he said. “My father 
won’t eat bacon, and if I don’t hurry home with 
these quail, there’ll be no meat for dinner.” 

1 ‘ I wish you would let me send you over a leg 
of mutton,” said Jacob, hurriedly, and in some 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


23 


confusion. “We killed a fat sheep, and it— it 
will spoil before we can use it all.” 

But at this substantial offer Paul seemed to 
regain some of his old, easy hauteur of manner. 

“That would hardly do. My father would 
never accept it, nor do I think your father would 
exactly relish the idea of your generosity— in 
our direction, ’Twon’t do, Jacob. You and I 
can talk to each other a little in private, as we 
are doing now; but that is about all we can do. 
I’m free to say I wish now I could have known 
you better at school, but it wouldn’t have 
worked with the rest of my set. Do you fish?” 

Jacob was not specially fond of, nor skillful* 
at that pastime, but if it would bring the two 
lads together more he determined to be fond of 
it, then and there. 

“Not much,” he replied. “But that is be- 
cause I don’t know about cast-nets. I wish you 
would show me how, Paul.” 

“Why, of course!” 

Paul hesitated. It was one thing to casually 
meet Jake and be social in private, but another 


24 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


to make future appointments. Yet Jacob’s 
eager, handsome face was irresistible. 

“Say!” continued Paul. “Uncle Ham and I 
are going to Waccamaw Point to-night, at 
moonrise. The mullet will fairly jump into the 
boat. Suppose you get in your dory and run 
over. ’ 9 

“All right!” assented young Ehrich, delight- 
edly. “Course I’ll come ! You and Uncle Ham 
must show me how to throw a cast-net ! ’ ’ 

“ Hi ! Y o-oh ! O-o-oh, Marse Paul ! ’ ’ came in 
somewhat husky and catchy tones, from the 
lioanoak side of the island. 

“There’s Ham, now!” said Paul, starting 
away. “He is come for those birds. Well, so 
long, Jacob! I’ll look for you to-night.” 

Shouldering his gun, the squire’s son moved 
off, with Don ranging some distance ahead. 
About that time the figure of an old negro ap- 
peared among the pines down the slope of the 
ridge. 

J acob stood motionless in his tracks for some 
time, looking after Paul. The glad elation 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


25 


gradually faded from his face, and in its place 
came a look of discouragement, and even sad- 
ness. 

“I do like Paul!” he thought to himself. 
“But Paul only tolerates me. I can see that— ” 
He was interrupted by a smart tap on the 
shoulder. 






CHAPTER III. 


UNCLE HAM DISAPPROVES — JACOB IN DISGRACE. 

It was Sidney, more recalcitrant and less 
obedient than before. 

“I heard what you and that Roanoak fellow 
said to each other, and I’m going to tell father— 
that’s what I’m going to do. ‘Please, Mr. Paul, 
may I go fishing with you V ” 

Sidney threw into this last remark all his car- 
icaturing skill. Then he squared his humped 
shoulders, obstinately. 

“I’d be ashamed to try to make up to that 
high and mighty, I would. Why, he wouldn’t 
wipe his feet on you at school, or in town, or 
anywhere, where folks would notice it. We’ll 
see what father thinks when I get home.” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


27 


“Now you hush up,” commanded Jacob, 
hardly proof against this rebellious twitting. 
“I’m not accountable to you. What are you 
back here for anyhow? Didn’t I tell you to 
dust?” 

And in true elder-brotherly rage he again 
“booted” Sid down the ridge, nor desisted this 
time until that now roaring youngster was well 
on towards the boat. After that Sid was moody 
but silent. He was sullenly meditating revenge. 
Jake, who never remained long angry, spoke 
kindly to his brother when they got out at the 
pier, but Sid continued to sulk. 

In the meantime Paul joined Uncle Ham. The 
old negro, whose face seemed to be formed of 
several rolls of wrinkles jumbled together in 
crude imitation of the human countenance, wore 
a look of remonstrance. 

“Now, Marse Paul,” he began, “whuff o’ 
make you go an ’ take up wif dat low-bo ’n trash, 
Jake Ehrich? Don’t you know yo’ folks don’t 
like hit? De squire’ll jess raar, dat he sho’ly 
will. ’ ’ 


28 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“Of course! That is, if you make it your 
business to go and tell him. See here, Uncle 
Ham, I’ve been away so long that I don’t alto- 
gether see the use of snubbing even an Ehrich, 
when he tries to be civil. I know that is some- 
what against B-oanoak law and gospel down 
here at Waccamaw, but it is the way I feel, 
nevertheless. Is it going to be a good night for 
mullet, think?” 

“Well, sah, if de wind lay, she sho’ to be a 
good one. Dev’s a schoolin’ powerful thick 
longer ’bout now. ’ ’ 

“I am glad of that. Jake is coming over to 
fish with us.” 

“What dat I yere? Who? Dat Jake? Jake 
Ehrich?” 

“Jake Ehrich. And I hope you will be pleas- 
ant to him, Ham, because I have invited him. 
He wants to learn how to cast. ’ ’ 

“Fling de cast-net? Huh! Better git dem 
honey ard niggers ter show him de way ob hit.” 

“Boneyard niggers” was Uncle Ham’s scorn- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


29 


ful designation of the colored hands who worked 
in the Ehrich phosphate mill. 

Panl laughed. 

“I told Jacob that you were the best cast-net 
thrower on Johns or Edisto. At least I think 
he realizes that, ’ ’ added Paul, his conscience re- 
straining him from a flat falsehood, though in a 
good cause. 

“He orter know suttin’ like dat if he got any 
sense , 9 9 replied Ham, who prided himself on his 
reputation as a fisherman. “I ain’t as spry as 
I once uster was, but when I see a passel er mul- 
let, I in ginerly make out ter git dar . 9 9 

“Well, if Jake comes, we must put him 
through in style. That needn’t prevent father 
from having it out with Mr. Ehrich in his own 
way. Tell you the truth, Ham, I would rather 
live in peace and good feeling with our neigh- 
bors than not. ’ ’ 

“Land er mis’ry! What you talkin’ fer? 
Marse Paul, I is plumb ershamed. Is you fergit 
who dem Ehrichs was, an’ who we was an’ is? 


30 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Is yo’ fergit, too, how dey up an’ git hotter dat 
plantashun er yo’ pap’s over on Edisto?” 

‘‘Oh, I don’t forget, but I am tired of always: 
having to remember. What good does it do ! It 
doesn’t bring back the land. Nor does it pre- 
vent us from growing poorer every year, while 
Ehrich gets richer. We ought to respect him 
for his financial ability, if for nothing else.” 

6 1 Whoo-w-e-e ! Dem big words don’t make 
nuttin’. I lay Miss Europa fotch you ter time 
if she vere now. Gimme dem birds, Marse Paul. 
Good t’ing you can shoot. ’Bout de unly way 
you seem ter favor de Roanoaks dese days.” 

By this time, being at the shore, Uncle Ham 
took the quail and ferried himself across the 
East Cut on his way to the kitchen of Roanoak 
Hall. 

Paul, somehow, did not feel so happy after his 
concessions in behalf of Jacob as he thought he 
ought to feel. He had no idea of resenting 
Ham’s free methods of expressing himself, for 
the old negro was a privileged character. 

He had been born on the Waccamaw estate in 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


31 


the days of Roanoak glory, before the Civil War, 
and he had lived with the Roanoaks all his sixty 
or more years. He would die with them, and 
Paul knew that he was true as steel. 

Other slaves had scattered “ after freedom,” 
but Ham was a fixture. He had the right to give 
plain counsel that is born of fidelity and affec- 
tion, and as Paul and Don took their way down 
the marsh to see if there were any ducks in the 
bite this side of Waccamaw Point, the youth felt 
a little ashamed of his moral half surrender. 

It was nearly sunset when Mr. Sidney Ehrich 
senior pulled down the lid of his roll-top desk 
in his private office at the phosphate works. 

Glancing through an outer window, he could 
see two of his own steam dredges at work in the 
channel of Waccamaw Sound. In his ears was 
the crashing noise of the ‘ 4 pulverizers,” and the 
whir of belts, wheels and shafting. 

A line of half-naked negroes were loading 
sacks of the manufactured product on to a great 
barge lying at the dock. Other hands were busy 


32 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


here and there. The whole place was a hive of 
industry nntil the six o’clock evening bell. 

While the proprietor sat in his office chair, 
clipping with his knife the end of a cigar, Sid- 
ney junior rushed in, looked about to see if any 
one besides his father was there, then he burst 
forth, impetuously: 

“ Father, I think it is shameful the way Jake 
and that Roanoak fellow have been going on to- 
gether! Because I objected, Jake kicked me 
half-way home. Say, father, I wish you’d talk 
to Jake.” 

“Has Jacob been kicking you, Sidney?” 

Mr. Ehrich shook his head disapprovingly. 

His hair was thick, coarse and black. It was 
cut short, in “pompadour” style, and when he 
shook it over his narrow, sharp, black eyes, he 
looked a little like a porcupine shaking its quills. 

“ ’Deed he was! And ’cause why? It was 
only for the reason that I told him you would 
not like it.” 

“Like what? Have Jake and young Roan- 
oak been fighting?” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


33 


“Not much. If that had been so I would have 
hung round and put in a lick for Jake. But that 
wasn ’t the way of it. Say, dad, what would you 
do if old Roanoak was to come up and want to 
shake hands, and go on over you, and all that ? ’ 9 

“I— I — 99 Mr. Ehrich hesitated, for down in 
his heart he knew that the cordial offer of a 
Roanoak hand would have delighted his soul, 
yet the fact that such a supposition was ludi- 
crous in the light of probability angered him 
through his self-conceit. “Well, my son, I think 
I would turn my back on the fellow.” 

Sid looked at his father cunningly, then gave 
his humped shoulder an incredulous shrug. 

“No you wouldn’t, dad. Neither did Jake. 
He didn’t even wait for Paul to make the first 
advance.” 

“How is that? Did he try to be friendly 
first ? ’ ’ 

“You bet! I was hid behind a pine, but I 
could see that, though Paul let himself down a 
bit, he was friendly a good deal as I might be 
friendly with old Bose up at the house.” 


34 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“So!” exclaimed Mr. Ehrich, lighting his 
cigar with quick, nervous puffs, and leaving the 
office, followed by Sid. “I will teach J ake a les- 
son he will not soon forget if he don’t look out. 
He never was like the rest of us. He don’t even 
want to go into trade. He wouldn’t learn book- 
keeping, and he wouldn’t stay at his Uucle Hi- 
ram’s in Charleston. He would go to that fine 
academy at Beaufort, where these worthless 
sprigs of played-out planters’ sons go, and he 
got well snubbed for his pains.” 

“They say young Roanoak wouldn’t speak to 
Jake there at all.” 

i ‘ And now Jake makes up to him here ! I will 
wear a hickory stick out on Jake, if he is nearly 
seventeen. He wants to be a lawyer, or an au- 
thor. What do you think of that, Sidney ? ’ ’ 

The young hopeful laughed, satirically. The 
idea of Jake becoming a man of letters struck 
him as being very funny. 

“Jake wants to starve genteelly, dad; but 
when I’m big enough I want you to take me into 
the works. Bet your life I can make things 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


35 


hum ! I don’t care for these old planters. They 
haven’t got money. They’ve got nothing hut 
land, and they are always wanting to sell. You 
can own about all the land on Edisto, if you 
want to. But land is no good, if you ain’t got 
no money to work it with. Is it, dad?” 

“Sid, you are a boy after your father’s 
heart!” Mr. Ehrich patted the little scamp, 
fondly. “You have the true Ehrich spirit. I 
wish that Jake was half so promising.” 

And yet Sidney knew full well that his fath- 
er’s denunciation of Jacob and his contempt of 
the aristocratic poverty around him was but a 
reckless expression of pique over the social re- 
buffs the Ehrich family had received. 

They were now crossing the dry marsh to- 
ward the grounds of the Ehrich mansion. A 
shell road, neatly ditched, thus communicated 
with the works on the point. 

At the edge of the woods they met Jacob 
sauntering along, in his usual half- despondent 


manner. 


36 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“You Jake!” called Mr. Ehrich. “I want to 
talk with yon . 9 9 

As Jacob came up his father angrily de- 
manded what he meant by his conduct that day. 
Jacob, seeing that Sid had told his tale, shrug- 
ged his shoulders and said nothing. 

“Another thing, dad,” added Master Sid. 
“He even invited himself to go fishing with 
Paul and that old Uncle Ham of their ’n to- 
night. ’ ’ 

“Is that so, Jake?” Mr. Ehrich thrust his 
stubby hands deep down in his pockets and 
chewed his cigar nervously, as he glared at his 
oldest son. “Be careful what you say, now!” 

“This much of whatever Sid may have said 
is so. Paul Boanoak and I are friendly now, 
and I thought of going fishing with him to 
night. ’ 9 

Jacob spoke respectfully, but firmly. Yet he 
felt rather reckless as to the result. He had 
made up his mind what he should do, and if it 
brought around an open rupture with his father, 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


37 


he did not feel just at present as if he would re- 
cede at all. 

1 1 Sidney, listen to him!” Mr. Ehrich seized 
Sid by the arm and pointed derisively at Jacob. 
4 ‘ Ain’t he a fine gentleman, my little son! We 
ain’t good enough for him now, no more than 
his Uncle Hiram was in town. He ’ll be looking 
up his family tree next, I guess, Sid!” 

Sid’s loud, cackling laugh was so aggravat- 
ing, that Jacob, who had taken things very 
meekly up to this point, flushed to his forehead. 

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but the 
angry retort died in his throat. He choked 
down his passion by a violent effort, eyed his 
father with mute reproach, then turned away, 
dashing the tears from his eyelids, and made off 
at a rapid pace. 

“Hold on, Jake!” called Mr. Ehrich. “I 
ain’t done with you yet, sir. Stop right there, 


CHAPTER IV. 


SON A LEG ARE — SID AND HIS FATHER PUT THEIR 
HEADS TOGETHER— GOING A FISHING. 

Unheeding the command to stop, Jacob kept 
right on, and presently was hidden by a clump 
of cabbage palmetto trees. 

Mr. Ehrich and Sid, after waiting a few min- 
utes, resumed their way toward the house, while 
the father’s hand rested affectionately on his 
younger son’s shoulder. To a man of his prac- 
tical turn of mind and training, Sid was much 
more of a comfort than Jacob. 

The oldest son sadly realized this as he wan- 
dered aimlessly through the woods, absorbed 
in gloomy reflections. The last rays of the sun 
shot glintingly through the pines for long dis- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


39 


tances. In between the sparse wire-grass the 
ground was springy with the dead, needle-like 
leaves. Near a great “clay root” was a hole, 
piled round with fresh and yellow earth, while 
just beyond the open road wound down to the 
ford, leading over to Waccamaw Island. 

A dull, hissing sound rose from the grass, and 
Jacob saw a large turtle, making for the hole at 
its best pace. He laughed to himself, and, slip- 
ping up behind, placed both feet on the hard 
shell back of the animal. 

“They say a turtle of this kind can carry a 
man’s weight,” he thought. “Now I’ll try to 
prove it, if he ever sticks out his head again.” 

He was still standing on the turtle’s back, 
when he heard a clatter of horse’s hoofs, ap- 
proaching through the woods toward the ford. 
At this juncture the turtle thrust out its head, 
and began to struggle toward its hole with some 
success, despite the weight of Jacob as he poised 
himself on the broad, curved shell of the crea- 
ture. 


40 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“For shame, Mr. Ehrieh! You are hurting 
the poor thing ! ’ ’ 

Jacob quickly stepped off, as he glanced up 
at a girl on horseback, and in a long riding skirt, 
who had drawn rein at the edge of the road. 

She was about fifteen, and looked fresh, pe- 
tite and pretty, as she half-laughingly uttered 
her opinion of Jake’s experiment with the tur- 
tle. 

“Good evening, Miss Sona,” he replied. “I 
don’t think it hurts him. His shell is so hard, 
you know.” 

“But what earthly fun is there in tormenting 
it so?” 

“I’d heard the colored people say that a tur- 
tle as large as this will walk off with a man on 
its back, so I— so I— But I won’t any more if 
you think it is wrong.” 

“It looks cruel, whether it is or not. But— I 
must be going.” 

She spoke to her horse; but Jacob, after hes- 
itating within himself for an instant, called out : 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


41 


“Oh, Miss Sona, are you going to Roanoak 
Hall?” 

Miss Sona Legare again drew rein, as she re- 
plied in the affirmative. 

“I wish you would tell Paul that I— that I 
shall hardly be able to go fishing to-night. ’ ’ 

“Very well. I am glad that you and Paul are 
friends. But I must hurry ; it is getting late. ’ ’ 

She rode on toward the water, while Jacob 
continued his walk, though turning toward the 
Ehrich house, in order to be home by dinner- 
time. 

When Mr. Ehrich became a country proprie- 
tor, he changed his dinner-hour from one to six 
o’clock, whereat his aristocratic neighbors, who 
had always dined late, turned up their noses and 
smiled. 

“I’m glad I met Sona,” thought Jacob. 
“She is kin to the Roanoaks, yet she isn’t stuck 
up. Paul may think hard of me, yet I cannot 
afford to quarrel with father. He will get over 
his fret, as it is. But there is no knowing what 


42 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


lie would do if lie was to catch Paul and me to- 
gether. ’ ’ 

When Jacob next saw his father, that gentle- 
man busied himself deeply in his newspaper. 
The son felt that conversation was not desired. 
He talked to his mother and older sister until 
the dinner was served. 

During the meal Mr. Ehrich was uncommon- 
ly friendly with Sidney, but hardly said a word 
to Jacob. The latter soon rose and went to his 
room. He felt gloomy and despondent. 

“I wish I could be something or somebody,” 
he said, half aloud, to himself. “All father and 
Sid think of is the dollar. But if I could only 
adopt some intellectual career— be an author, 
for instance!” His eyes dwelt on a table lit- 
tered with scraps of manuscript, books and pa- 
pers. “But I don’t know how to find out wheth- 
er I am fit for it or not.” 

He thought of Sona’s older brother, then on 
a visit to the Legares. He was a city editor. 
Jacob had intended, through Paul, to get an in- 
troduction to this editor, who often went hunt- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


43 


ing or fishing with him. But his father, by op- 
posing Jacob’s wishes in that direction, would 
deprive the boy of knowing the great newspaper 
man, whose opinion would be so valuable. 

He did not dare to ask Sona to bring about 
the meeting. Though friendly enough, she was 
a girl, and Jacob was backward about asking 
favors of girls, as sensitive boys are apt to he. 

Meanwhile Mr. Ehrich and Sidney, not know- 
ing that Jacob had given up his fishing trip, 
were arranging a little expedition of their own. 

“We will let Jake carry out his fine scheme,” 
said Mr. Ehrich to his youngest son. “Then 
we will slip over in the dory and give him a sur- 
prise. I shouldn’t wonder, now, if those Roan- 
oaks were fishing on our side of the point all the 
time. ’ ’ 

“That’s what, dad! Old Ham steals our oys- 
ters, too.” 

“Now, Sidney,” interrupted his mother, who 
was a woman of better judgment on matters 
aside from mere money-making than her hus- 
band, besides being more refined— “now, Sid- 


44 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


ney, I wouldn’t say such things if I were you.” 

“I think the boy is about right, Julia,” com- 
mented Mr. Ehrich. “Old Ham seems to think 
because the Boanoaks once owned the earth, 
they ought to own it still. ’ ’ 

“I don’t believe any liberties their servants 
indulge in of that sort are looked on as such 
by them and their class. The planters seem to 
go fishing and oystering anywhere. It is cus- 
tom. ’ ’ 

“Yet it isn’t right.” Mr. Ehrich spoke em- 
phatically. “I’m not going to let those people 
who think themselves above us intrude on what 
is mine. If they want to use my fishing-grounds 
let them come and ask for the favor. It would 
be some satisfaction to say no— confound ’em!” 

Mrs. Ehrich said no more. She was well 
aware that her husband’s sentiments sprang 
more from a sense of social injury on the part 
of his neighbors than from natural selfishness. 

Sid laughed loudly. 

“I’m with you, dad,” he said. “If we catch 
’em trespassing we’ll tell ’em what we think of 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


45 


such doings. Jake ought to be ashamed of him- 
self to want to go about with any of ’em, I say. ’ ’ 

The moon rose about nine o’clock that night. 
As its half-orbed surface rose over the low tim- 
bered line of Loon Beach, the water of the sound 
took on a lighter hue and shimmered converg- 
ingly towards a common centre that shot in a 
long line of prismatic sparkles athwart the 
sandy shallows abreast and beyond Waccamaw 
Point. 

Shortly before this, Paul Roanoak accom- 
panied by Mr. Edgar Legare, the editor before 
alluded to, left the Hall and made their way to 
the decaying wharf that marked the Roanoak 
landing in East Cut. 

They were joined by old Ham as they passed 
the negro quarter. He bore a cast-net, a couple 
of oars, and a “gig,” or fish spear. At the 
wharf they entered a long dug-out canoe. 

While Paul leisurely rowed, Ham built a fire 
of “fat” pine in an iron basket, and hung it 
upon a projecting pole. Then he sat down in 


46 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


the stern to steer while Mr. Legare took his po- 
sition in the bow with the gig in his hand. 

The dug-out glided noiselessly and slowly in 
and out by the marshy shore, while the spears- 
man watched the yellow wake left in the water 
by the fire’s reflection. 

As they followed the sinuosities of the bank, 
sundry living things would start up at this in- 
trusion on their repose. A mink or muskrat, 
after receiving the gleam of fire-light in its 
bead-like eye, would slide into the water quietly. 
Once, a sullen plunge was followed by a nervous 
dart of Legare ’s spear. The steel struck some- 
thing hard and rebounded. Legare drew it in 
by the hand-line, and laughed to himself. 

“ ’Gator— eh?” inquired Paul. 

“Yes. He’s got a hide like a piece of sole 
leather. But I gave him a scare. Hullo ! ’ ’ 

This last exclamation was followed by a swift 
lunge with the spear. Something churned the 
water fiercely where the grains struck, and Le- 
gare began hauling in as fast as he could. Old 
Ham took up a landing-net, and, as the strug- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


47 


gling mass floated at the canoe’s side, scooped 
it up, spear and all, and deposited it in the bot- 
tom of the boat. Then he shrugged his shoul- 
ders, contemptuously. 

“Dat nuttin’ but a mud-flat drum,” he said. 
“ t ’lowed you know’d better ’n to bodder ’long 
er him, Marse Edgar. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Marse Edgar” did look rather crestfallen 
at the broad, coarse-scaled fish, now breathing 
heavily, as the spear was extracted. 

‘ ‘ Well, Ham, you see I thought it was a sheep- 
head,” he said, in excuse of his error. “But it 
will do for food, won’t it, Ham?” 

“No, sah. We-a]ls never bodder ’long er 
mud-drum, nohow. Dey’s too coa’se, too bony, 
ter be good eatin’. Watch out, Marse Edgar. 
En’t dat ar a sheephead cornin’ now?” 

Mr. Legare made a furious lunge at a black 
shadow that slowly wagged its way along, at- 
tracted by the light. The steel barbs rang out 
as they struck the gravelly bottom, and the black 
shadow disappeared as if by magic. 

“Dar, now, Marse Edgar, you gits in too big 


48 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


a hurry! Dat de way you write fo’ dat paper 
ob yo ’n V ’ 

“Well, hardly. You see. Ham, writing takes 
time— ” 

“So does giggin’ sheephead, Marse Edgar. 
Hole up dem grains twell you kin squint right 
at de fish thoo de middle ob de barbs. Then 
hole yo’ breaf an’ let de gig slide like lightnin’. 
Dar comes anudder one! What you up to, 
Marse Edgar? En’t you see him? Right dar. 
Now! now!” 

While the old negro spoke in growing excite- 
ment, Legare poised his pole, took unusually 
good aim and cast the gig. Another churning 
of the shallow water betokened +hat he had not 
missed this time. 

A moment later, a fine, large sheephead lay 
floundering in the canoe, its gray and whitish 
sides glittering in the firelight. 

“This is a seven pounder, at least, Cousin 
Ed,” remarked Paul, drawing in his oars. “Let 
me try my luck now. The moon will be up pres- 
ently ; then we’ll have to take to the cast-net.” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


49 


Legare sat down and took the oars. Paul, 
with the gig handily poised, stood like a statue. 
Uncle Ham kept the tire replenished and 
watched the water. Suddenly a loud, hoarse, 
rasping screech rose from the marsh close by, 
that was accompanied by the heavy flapping of 
large wings. 

“Dat feller’s a sand-hiller, I bet,” said Ham. 
“Powerful good eatin’ dis time er de year, too. 
Marse Paul, whyn’t you fotch vo’ gun along?” 

“Well, now, Ham,” replied Legare, “that is 
asking too much. How are we to see to shoot a 
sand-hill crane in the dark, and it flying away?” 

“Shoot by de sound, Marse Edgar.” 

“You might as well try to shoot by the smell. 
I will follow your lead in Ashing, Ham; but 
when it comes to guns and pens, I have opinions 
of my own. ’ ’ 

Ham, nothing loath for an argument, was 
about to reply, when Paul motioned for silence, 
at the same time laying down his gig and taking- 
out a large revolver from a holster under his 
coat. 


50 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“Dat boy got sense,” muttered Ham to him- 
self. “I ’lowed he got suttin’ ter shoot wif 
whenever he on de water or in de woods. ’ ’ 

They had rounded the left-hand point of the 
three that made the shape of the island resem- 
ble an oak leaf, and were crossing the shallow 
hay towards the long tongue of land called 
Waccamaw Point. 

A low, intermittent splashing of water was 
approaching the canoe. At times short swirls 
would take place, as if the element was being 
violently agitated by some swiftly moving ob- 
jects. 

“Cirvallie, aren’t they!” asked Legare, in a 
low tone. 

Old Ham nodded, then added, in a whisper : 

“ Suttin’ atter ’em, too. En’t you year dat 
choog-choog, way up de cove!” 

A sound fell on Legare ’s ear that seemed to 
confirm Ham’s words. Paul was gazing beyond 
the sheen of firelight, regardless of sundry curv- 
ing flashes of phosphorescent sparkle dividing 
the waters about the boat into two masses of 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


51 


pale flame, that hissed as the shoal passed on at 
bow and stern. 

These were large, bright, shining fish, ner- 
vous as a pond pickerel. At times they leaped 
into the air in their eagerness to get away from 
something— not the canoe, certainly, for they 
thrust themselves closely about its side in their 
efforts to pass. The flaming torch dazed, yet 
did not frighten them. A heavily moving ob- 
ject behind at last made a tremendous dart, di- 
viding the shallow waters into two curving 
masses with startling celerity. 

The cirvallie, though rather large fish them- 
selves, jumped and scurried about in furious 
efforts to escape. Paul, taking rapid aim, fired 
once— twice— thrice— then seized his gig, at the 
same time motioning Ham to sheer to the right 
sharply. 

Meanwhile a terrible churning of water was 
taking place about the spot Paul had fired at. 
Dull gleams of a yellowish cast showed them- 
selves amid the white sparkle of waves. Once a 
great forked tail rose upward out of the yeasty 


52 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


pother, and at another instant a long, jagged, 
saw-like protrusion was fleetingly seen. Legare 
became excited. 

4 ‘ Give it to him, Paul. He’s badly wounded 
as it is. I must have that saw for my collection. 
It ’s at least three feet long. ’ ’ 

Paul, half crouching in sportsmanlike eager- 
ness, was watching a chance to deliver a cast 
with the gig that would not only complete the 
work the pistol-balls had begun, but also secure 
the great fish and prevent its escape in its dying 
struggles. Ham, manipulating an oar, brought 
the canoe cautiously near. 

At length Paul launched his spear. Instantly 
the struggling saw-fish rose in the air, came 
down with a splash, then darted away. 

The hand-line attached to the spear spun 
through Paul’s hands at a lively rate. The fish 
showed such unexpected strength and vitality 
that the boy was afraid to take a turn round a 
cleat lest the slender cord should break. 

“Let um have hit all, Marse Paul,” said 
Ham, now using his oar as a pole, and shoving 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


53 


the dug-out forward in the wake of the fish. 
“We kin foller in dis shoal water.” 

Presently it could he seen that the creature 
was tiring. Paul drew in on the hand-line until 
he came to the spear-handle, floating and at- 
tached to the barbs in the fish by the all-sustain- 
ing cord. 

“Easy now, Marse Paul!” Ham bent over 
the side as he spoke. In his hand was a fish- 
cleaning knife. “Don’t ’sturb him twell I git 
a chance ter make my lick.” 

As the long, yellow body came swinging 
alongside just beneath the surface, it was par- 
tially turned on its back. 

“He’s gwine ter make a die out’n hit. Lem- 
me wind him up.” 

While speaking Ham reached forth and 
plunged his knife in deep, just behind a forefin 
of the fish. A wriggle and a quiver followed, 
and the saw-fish turned completely over, its 
cream-colored stomach glistening in the fire- 
light. 

It was at least six feet long. From the fron- 


54 


SEA ISLAND BOYS, 


tal bone below its eyes projected a saw-like ap« 
pendage that might have been thirty inches 
long. 

“He is a fine one, sure,” said Legare, strok- 
ing its smooth, yellow side, that deepened into 
buff on the back. “I suppose I may have the 
saw, Paul!” 

“You can have the whole fish, Cousin Ed, 
and welcome. Ham will tow it in as we go 
back.” 

The old negro was now working a sharp- 
ended pole into the sandy bottom. To this he 
made fast the saw-fish, by lashings wound 
around the large teeth of its saw, that were also 
looped over the pole. 

They skirted along the east side of Wacca- 
maw Point; and Paul made another cast, but 
missed. 

Then Ham, after replenishing the firepan, 
pointed to a broad, dark shadow, that seemed 
to be burrowing its way into the mud. 

“Yere you is, Marse Paul!” he exclaimed. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


55 


“Stingeree! Lemme have dem grains. I nuver 
passes one er dem trash.’ ’ 

Ham took the fish-spear, poised it dexterously 
and drove it into the black shadow with a vim 
that indicated a profound interest in the success 
of his performance. When he raised the spear, 
the black thing was suspended on its point. Two 
great wings flapped heavily as it was thrown in 
the bottom of the boat. 

Ham killed it with his knife. Then, tucking 
the blade under a sharp, bone-like formation at 
the base of the creature’s tail, raised up the 
sting, discovering it to be some three inches 
long. 

“Gre’t king!” he ejaculated. ‘ * Look at dat, 
Marse Edgar. How you like, when you learn- 
in’ to t’row cast net, to feel dish yere t’ing pop- 
pin’ inter yo’ foot?” 

Ham, as the leading cast-net manipulator, 
hated a stingray as badly as most people hated a 
rattlesnake. When they neared the point Paul 
motioned toward the distant ocean. 


56 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“Our time for gigging is about passed,” said 
be. 1 1 Get out your nets, Uncle Ham . 9 9 

Then he put out the lights by emptying the 
blazing contents of the firepan into the water, 
where they sputtered, hissed, and floated silent- 
ly away. 


c 


CHAPTER V. 


AFTER THE MULLET— AN INTERRUPTION— & SOUND 
OF OARS. 

Ham produced two cast nets, one of which he 
prepared to use himself. Paul sat down in the 
stern and took up a single oar. 

“Now, Cousin Ed,” he said, “Ham will show 
you how to hold your net. You had better let 
him throw first, and see how* he spreads it over 
the mullet. Then, do just as he does.” 

The net used by Ham was of a circular shape, 
and when spread out would cover a space four 
yards or more in diameter. The meshes, con- 
verging to a common centre, were strongly 
lashed around a circular piece of horn, through 
which passed a long hand-line, that was at- 


58 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


tached to various “ tuck-strings. ” These, in 
turn, were fastened to a lead-line, surrounding 
and binding the outer edge of the net. 

The old negro grasped this net by the horn, 
held it up straight and doubled it once in his 
left hand, which also held the coiled hand-line. 

Legare clumsily did likewise. It was not as 
easy as writing heavy leaders on party politics. 
Ham did not seem to mind it, however. 

“Now, Marse Edgar,” mumbled Ham, tak- 
ing a turn of the lead-line between his teeth and 
throwing sundry folds of the net over his right 
arm, “don’t you git ’scouraged. Dish yere de 
way.” 

Mr. Legare, with his mouth filled by the line 
and two of the leads, made an inarticulate re- 
sponse, as he, with Ham’s assistance, got him- 
self into position to cast the net. 

Meanwhile the moon had risen above the east- 
ern horizon, and the darkness was giving way 
to a pale glow in the atmosphere that slowly 
brightened. Sundry flips and splashes of water 
began to be heard here and there. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


59 


“Mullets air ’ginnin’ ter jump/’ whispered 
Ham. “Git a leetle fudder out, Marse Paul. 
Big mullet en’t runnin’ very close to sho’ now.” 

The negro, with his net ready, stood in the 
bow. Legare, in a similar attitude, was amid- 
ships. With a noiseless occasional stroke Paul 
sent the long, narrow dug-out forward at a 
proper speed, bending as the sound of splashes 
increased or diminished. 

The night was very quiet, rendering the cries 
of frog and bittern startlingly distinct. A light 
breath from the west fanned their faces, though 
not sufficiently strong to ruffle the water. 

At last they ran into a shoal of mullet. The 
phosphorescent play of water, caused by the 
movement of fins and tails, looked like a myriad 
of struggling glow-worms mingled inextricably 
together. Suddenly Ham threw his body half 
round, to give the net full swing, then crouch- 
ing, to brace himself, flung it as far as possible. 

The unfolding canopy whirled gracefully 
just along the surface of the water, and settled 


60 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


like a heavily-weighted parachute upon the 
mass of phosphorescent flashings. 

At the same time Legare attempted to do like- 
wise. But the strain of Ham’s efforts had set 
the canoe to rocking. Legare ’s net fell short in 
a disgraceful heap, instead of gracefully 
spreading out as it should have done. 

Legare himself lost his balance, waved his 
arms wildly, uttered a comical cry of dismay, 
and fell overboard, just as Ham hauled in a 
dozen or more of fine mullet and shook them 
out in the bottom of the canoe, where they 
flopped furiously for a moment or so. 

Paul sprang forward and assisted his cousin 
aboard, restraining his natural desire to laugh. 
Ham gave one wild whoop, then constrained 
himself to look grave, though the effort was nec- 
essarily severe. 

The water being about waist deep, Legare 
had managed to keep his head and shoulders 
dry. He laughed the loudest of any as he shook 
himself, while Paul hauled in the net. 

“ Gracious, boys!” he exclaimed; “that was 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


61 


a corker! You see, I was afraid the net might 
get tangled, so I merely went over to see about 
it— eh? Ham, you old sinner, why don’t you 
laugh out? Don’t die of internal convulsions, 
man.” 

Thus adjured, Ham exploded again, with the 
force of an overcharged gun. His whoops of 
merriment rang through the woods on either 
side. All the while he was wringing the water 
from Legare’s clothes and covering him with 
a blanket. 

“S’cuse me, Marse Edgar. But seem like 
you was in too much ob a hurry. Next time 
yo ’ll do bettuh, I know. ’ ’ . 

“Pm done for to-night. Let Paul take my 
net. I’ll steer and paddle. I can keep wrapped 
up— so. But I say, Uncle Ham, you shook the 
boat. I believe you did it on purpose.” 

Ham whooped anew at this jocular insinua- 
tion, and hushed only at Paul’s command, for 
they were approaching another shoal of fish. 

By this time, in their pursuit of the retiring 
shoal of mullet, they had trenched considerably 


62 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


on the Ehrich side of Waccamaw Point. No 
one noticed this; for, according to neighbor- 
hood custom of old, the different fishing- 
grounds were used in common by any one. 

Their entrance into another shoal was signal- 
ized by a furious leaping on the part of the star- 
tled mullet. One fine fellow leaped clear into 
the canoe, landing into Legare’s lap. 

“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “You cannot say 
now that I did not catch any mullet when we go 
back. ’ ’ 

No reply was made to this exulting remark, 
for two things just then happened. Both Paul 
and Uncle Ham cast their nets into the shoal, 
and a sound of oars was heard approaching 
from the direction of the Ehrich pier, which lay 
about half a mile up the West Cut, that here 
united with the East Cut at Waccamaw Point. 

While the fishermen were drawing in their 
well-burdened nets, a rowboat slowly came into 
view with two persons aboard. The larger fig- 
ure at the stern quickly called out : 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


63 


‘ ‘ What are yon doing here trespassing on my 
side of the point! Don’t you know these fish- 
ing grounds are private property ! ’ ’ 

There was a moment of silence, then Paul 
asked : 

“Is that Mr. Ehrich!” 

“This is Mr. Ehrich and his son Sidney. We 
heard that somebody would fish here to-night, 
and as parties have been trespassing before, I 
thought I would come down and warn you. 
Might save you trouble, you know.” 

Another pause, then this query came over the 
water : 

“I suppose you know who we are!” 

“My impression is that you are from Roan- 
oak Hall. Row up a little, Sidney. I want to 
see these men.” 

“It is not necessary to say any more,” said 
Paul. “We will withdraw to our own side. It 
is so customary to fish anywhere that we did not 
know that we should be regarded as trespass- 
ers.” 

‘ 4 Hold on ! I am not done yet, ’ ’ called out Mr. 


64 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Ehrich. “Somebody has been getting oysters 
at onr bar in the West Cut. I want that stopped 
too. We will— ” 

“Everything of that nature shall be stopped, 
Mr. Ehrich,” interrupted Paul, sternly. “Had 
we known that you objected we would never 
have gone on your side of the water front at all. 
But as every one about here does these things 
and always has done them, it is natural that we 
should do them, not knowing your views. We 
are glad that we do know them now.” 

The youth had seated himself at the oars, and 
pulled away rapidly as he spoke. 

Mr. Ehrich, who evidently still wanted to talk 
things over, perhaps because of a lingering feel- 
ing that he was doing something that would 
cause him to be more despised, called out again. 
No reply was made. 

The fishing canoe had receded until it was 
almost invisible far over on the Roanoke side of 
the point. 

Nothing was said by the occupants of the dug- 
out for some time. They could hear the Ehrich 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


65 


boat going back to the Ehrich pier. Ham stood 
in the bow with his net ready for another cast. 
Paul played with his oars in the water some 
time, then said: 

“What do you think of that, Cousin Ed? Did 
you ever know a sea islander to talk that way 
to any one about the fishing-grounds V ’ 

“It is certainly singular. What is the fellow 
up to?” 

“Well, you know he made his money in town 
—a trader of some kind, father says. But since 
he got hold of 'our Bugle Point place and went 
into phosphate mining and planting, he has 
wanted us all to regard him as one of us. Of 
course, that wouldn’t go down.” 

“Well, I should think not,” replied Legare. 

“Father is hasty, and he was rude to Mr. 
Ehrich when they met,” continued Paul. “So 
was your father, Cousin Ed. Uncle Dick said 
Ehrich never had been a gentleman, and it 
wasn’t in him to be one. So the talk went 
round, and Mr. Ehrich found himself snubbed 
on all sides whenever he made any social ad- 


66 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


vances. So lie drew back into his shell, and he 
now seldom shows himself, except to assert his 
rights, as he calls them, something as he did just 
now.” 

‘ ‘ He did not hide his light under a bushel to- 
night. I hear it said that he acquired his right 
to Bugle Point in a queer way.” 

“So father says. But there is Jake Ehrich. 
I rather liked the fellow, though I cut him some- 
what at Beaufort. Had to, you know. Other 
fellows wouldn’t allow any compromise. But 
I met him to-day, and we got to be quite chum- 
my. He was to meet me over here to-night and 
join our fishing.” 

“Very likely that was put forward as a blind, 
in order to find out at what time we would fish. 
He doubtless told his father. They probably 
watched, and, on hearing us, came over in high 
and mighty indignation.” 

“I’ve, been thinking that, too. It seems the 
most likely way for one of that family to do, 
though I did begin to think better of Jake. Why 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


67 


did not he come along, do you suppose, Cousin 
Ed?” 

“Ashamed to, most likely. Hadn’t the gall 
to face you, after spying out our intentions 
when he met you so amiably this afternoon. ’ ’ 
Paul did not reply. He played with his oars 
until cautioned by Ham to attend to business. 

As he resumed his slow stroke, he sighed. 
Perhaps he was regretting that the good feel- 
ing he was beginning to have for Jake must be 
dropped under the natural logic of the interrup- 
tion to-night. For some time the canoe, in si- 
lence, patrolled the Roanoak side of the point, 
and Ham made several more casts. A goodly 
supply of plump mullets, from eight to fifteen 
inches in length, were in the boat ’s bottom. 

“We might as well go home, I reckon,” said 
Paul, at length. “We’ve got fish enough— sure. 
Do you want to try the net again, Cousin Ed ? ’ ’ 
“I’d rather try some dry clothes, I believe.” 
As Paul brought the canoe round, and rowed 
back toward where they had left the sawfish, a 



68 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


second sound of oars was heard. The strokes 
were short, rapid and nervous. 

Under the moon’s full glow they presently 
discerned a boat approaching down the West 
Cut. 

“Hanged if Ehrich isn’t coming back!” said 
Legare. “Maybe he has thought of something 
else we ought not to do.” 

“Is that Paul Boanoak?” now came over the 
water, in tones too clear and boyish to resemble 
those of Mr. Ehrich. 


CHAPTER VI. 


JACOB AGAIN SURPRISED — A CONVICT^ ULTIMATUM. 

Paul started in surprise, and for an instant 
lie looked pleased, then his face slowly grew 
hard in expression. 

“I am here,” he called out, hut without eas- 
ing up on his stroke. “IPs Jake,” he added, in 
a lower tone, to Legare. 

“Hold on!” cried Jake, now pulling so as to 
intercept the canoe. “I have something to say 
to you, Paul.” 

The latter reluctantly slowed down until Ja- 
cob sidled up in a small but elegantly-made boat. 
The contrast between its shell-like proportions 
and dainty coloring, and the heavy, unpainted 


70 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


hull of the dug-out, spoke volumes as to the pe- 
cuniary status of the respective owners thereof. 

“I say, Paul,” began Jacob hurriedly, “I’m 
late. But things turned out differently than I 
hoped for when I reached home. Has— has my 
father been here? But what is the use of ask- 
ing ? I know he has . 5 ’ 

“So I expected,”' said Paul coldly. “And 
now, having made an excuse that needn’t have 
been made, will you let us pass on?” 

“No, but— I— don’t— I—” 

His manner was that of one both excited and 
hurt. It was evident that he desired to say 
something deprecatory of his father’s conduct, 
but the cold reserve manifested by the rest, even 
to Ham, confused and bewildered him at first. 

The dug-out was passing on. Suddenly Jacob 
laid a detaining hand on the gunwale, near the 
stern. Then he saw Legare closely. Here was 
the very man he wished most to know— an ed- 
itor, who could advise him. And now Sidney 
and his father had ruined any chance he might 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


71 


have had before of making his way in that di- 
rection. 

The freezing manner in which Legare drew 
himself back gave Jacob a chill, but he made 
out to stammer : 

“Indeed, Paul, I am not to blame for what 
father may have said. I regretdt exceedingly/ ’ 

No response came from the other boat. Jacob 
withdrew his hand, and the canoe passed on. 
He saw it gradually grow dim, until the last ves- 
tige of its shadow was swallowed up in the 
opaqueness of the moonlight. Then, dropping 
the oars, Jacobi hands went to his face. He 
groaned heart-breakingly, and the tears drop- 
ped from between his fingers. 

Finally he forced himself to cease his weak 
lamentation, feeling a kind of disgust for him- 
self and a bitter distaste for the environments 
of his lot, as he saw them. Sona would turn 
against him now— even Sona. Sona had always 
been friendly, and he liked her the better, as he 
contrasted her manner with that of other high- 
born girls and boys about. 


72 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


‘ ‘ Her brother will tell her that I was to blame 
for father’s words to-night. Paul must think 
that I am. Then, when we meet, she will freeze 
me out, too. I wish I was thick-skinned, like 
father. He nor Sidney don’t seem to care 
much.” 

The tide was ebbing, and Jacob suffered his 
boat to drift out toward the sound. He was in 
a state of mind that made him shrink from go- 
ing home at once. It seemed as if he almost 
hated his home just then. 

So with idly hanging oars and head sunk be- 
tween his shoulders, he sat brooding over the 
irritations of his situation for a good while. He 
had met his father and Sid on their return, and, 
learning from his brother just what had passed, 
he slipped away at the first opportunity and 
made his way to Waccamaw Point, to make such 
explanation as might set him straight in Paul’s 
estimation. His sense of defeat was bitter. 

4 ‘They will hate our folks worse than ever, 
and they will despise me. Yet I do not know 
what else I could have done.” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


73 


The balminess of the air, the mellow flush of 
the moonlight, conspired with the gentle rock- 
ing of the boat to make Jacob careless of his 
surroundings as he drowsily brooded. He might 
have finally dozed a little. He was not certain 
about that afterward. 

But it seemed that the boat, after being car- 
ried by the tide slowly to the northeast angle of 
Edisto, was whipped into an eddy there, and 
sent out into the sound toward a cluster of 
scrub-covered sand-banks that hovered about 
the extreme edge of a bar that made in from the 
inlet at Loon and Mullet beaches. 

Something sharp scraping along the bottom 
of the craft at last aroused Jacob. He looked 
about in a confused way. Instead of being near 
wooded shores, a wide expanse of water was all 
around. No; here, almost at hand, was a mass 
of low scrub, canopied by a dwarfed palmetto 
tree. Other islets stretched behind. The shore 
he had left was still visible, yet only in a vague 
way. 

Just as Jacob collected his ideas and obtained 


74 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


his bearings, something crashed through the 
bushes on the nearest islet. 

Young Ehrich took up the oars. Scarcely had 
he dipped them again in the water, when a fig- 
ure rose above the scrub, with violently waving 
arms and loud cries. These last, though at first 
unintelligible, resolved into entreaties, and fi- 
nally a half-pleading, half-threatening request 
for Jacob to wait. 

“I say— you governor, there !” said the voice. 
“Please don’t leave me. Wait a bit, can’t you? 
I say! You must wait!” 

Something forbidding and terrifying about 
the tones, more than the words, caused Jacob 
to begin rowing. But it appeared that he was 
on a submerged rock. Before he could push off, 
there was a furious rush from the scrub and a 
plunge into the water. An instant later a large 
hand was laid on the boat, and a heavy form 
clambered over its side. 

Jacob had read of wild men and their usually 
hairy and alarming appearance, and for a mo- 
ment he thought he now had to do with one of 



A figure rose above the scrub, with violently 
waving arms 

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SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


75 


those unfortunate creatures. Bristling liair, a 
straggling beard and cavernous eyes that 
glinted sharply even in the moonlight, together 
with mere shreds and patches in the way of ap- 
parel, formed a very dubious combination to 
deal with in his present isolated situation. 

“Got any grub aboard V’ asked the man, 
coolly turning Jacob out of his seat at the oars 
with a strength of arm that was irresistible. 

Jacob struggled and protested, but was 
pushed into the stern sheets notwithstanding. 

“Got any grub, I say?” and the fellow raised 
his voice. 

There was a stale lunch which Sid had placed 
in the boat’s locker the day before; but it had 
not been used, as the boys returned from the 
fishing they had undertaken in time for lunch- 
eon at home. But Jacob was angered at the ar- 
bitrary actions of this unknown invader. 

“If there is, I don’t know that you have any 
right to it,” he replied. 

“I’ll see about that,” said the stranger, ris- 


76 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


ing quickly as lie spoke, and seizing Jacob 
round the waist. 

The youth struggled, but was held on one hip, 
much as a woman might hold an unruly child, 
with one hand. 

The rascal’s strength was certainly tremen- 
dous. He cast a rapid eye over the boat, under 
the seats, then forced open the locker. He was 
in the act of grasping the lunch in a ravenous 
manner, when Jacob, despairing of releasing 
himself by other means, suddenly closed his 
teeth on the fleshy part of the man’s leg above 
the knee. 

A yell followed. Dropping the food, the man 
lifted Jacob bodily and flung him with great 
force into the bottom of the boat, nearly upset- 
ting the light craft with his violence. 

The boy became momentarily insensible. 
When he came to, the flare of a close blaze daz- 
zled his eyes. The man had found a box of 
matches, and, having devoured the lunch, was 
looking for more, striking matches one after an- 
other. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


77 


Jacob’s head ached. He was not a strong 
youth, but he possessed a good spirit, and he 
was filled with resentment at the way he had 
been treated. 

There was no weapon in the boat, while he 
could see, strapped to the man’s waist, a long, 
sharp knife. 

As Jacob looked, the bright glare of the burn- 
ing matches brought out much which the more 
vague moonlight had failed to reveal in the 
man’s appearance. 

His clothing, though extremely ragged and 
dirty, was striped in dingy black and gray col- 
ors. Jacob had seen such clothing once before, 
while at Beaufort. On an excursion to a con- 
vict camp, where a new railroad was building, 
he had seen men wearing a similar garb. 

The thrill of repugnance at this discovery 
was yet big within him, when the man, in his 
search, brought his bearded face close to Jacob, 
as he still lay between the thwarts. Then the 
boy experienced a second surprise, even sharper 


'8 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


than the first. He drew himself up, and, as the 
man noticed the movement, he exclaimed: 

“You’re Radnor Gillis, aren’t you?” 

The convict fell hack, then he struck another 
match and held it close to Jacob’s face. 

“The old scoundrel’s son, by George!” he 
ejaculated, under his breath. 

Then, without replying to Jacob, he seemed 
to debate something within himself. Jacob rose 
painfully, and seated himself in the bow. 

4 ‘ Hurt you much ? ’ ’ queried the man, sudden- 
ly looking up. 

“Well, you did not do me any good. If I 
were a man, and strong, like you, Rad Gillis, I 
would get even with you for this. When did 
you get out of the pen ? ’ ’ 

‘ 1 Long enough for my hair to grow. That is 
enough for you to know. I have traveled by 
night, and laid in the swamps until I’m about 
used up. But I made up my mind I would see 
Mr. Ehrich before I finally gave up.” 

“What good will it do you to see him? Why 
don’t you get some other clothes?” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


79 


“I tried, but I couldn’t. I’ll get ’em now. 
You’ll fetch ’em. I’ll see your governor, be- 
cause I need money. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ How can you expect him, or any of us, to do 
anything for you now? Father helped you, at 
the time of your trial, all he could.” 

‘ 1 It’s a lie!” shouted Gillis, in almost insane 
excitement. “He pretended to help me, but he 
was the man who really sent me up. But for 
him, I’d have been acquitted. Five years I’ve 
been there. When I had a chance, I skipped; 
and I’ve laid around here for a week, until I got 
so hungry I made up my mind to risk anything 
for a square meal again. Then I hailed you. 
See here, Jake! I’ve got to see the old man. 
That’s what I’m waiting for. I couldn’t get no 
chance at him, without exposing myself to oth- 
ers. That wouldn’t do, in these convict’s togs.” 

“Where did you escape from?” 

“Down on Pocataligo. There’s a camp of us 
down there ; and a horrible place it is. ’ ’ 

“I tell you frankly, Rad, that it will be my 
duty to let people know where you are. I don ’t 


80 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


believe what you say about father. He is not 
that kind of a man.” 

“Now, Jake, you used to be a good sort of 
boy, back in Charleston, when I was clerk for 
old Hiram Ehrich. You know that I was steady 
and faithful, too. Ain’t that sol” 

“Yes; and we were never more surprised 
than when we heard that you had been arrested 
for forging TJncle Hiram’s name. Of course, if 
father knew you were guilty, he had to swear 
to facts when he was put on oath. But he ob- 
tained you a good lawyer— you know that.” 

“He had that lawyer fixed, Jake.” 

“How can you say that?” 

“Because it is so. But let that slide. Had I 
not helped your father in one of his schemes, in 
a way that it became inconvenient to have me 
afterwards around, I wouldn’t have gone to the 
pen. But I’m out, and I’m going to try to stay 
out. The old man must help me, and you’ll go 
and tell him I’m waiting for him. And you’ll 
fetch me some clothes, too!” 

‘ ‘ I will do nothing of the kind. I will, have 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


81 


you arrested, though ; you may depend on that.” 

4 4 Now, I’ll only ask you to do this. Just call 
the old man out, and tell him Bad Gillis is wait- 
ing for him down at the landing. Then, if he 
says give the alarm, go ahead and give it. But 
he won’t say it, Jake.” 

Gillis smiled fiercely and took up the oars. 

“You might add that if he don’t show up 
with money, grub and clothes in half an hour, 
that I’ll be apt to be at Roanoak Hall when he 
hears of me again.” 

Then he began pulling, with long, powerful 
though somewhat clumsy strokes. The angry 
retort that had risen to Jacob’s lips was checked 
by this last remark. Absurd as the statement 
seemed to be, the man’s calm self-assurance was 
staggering. 

So Jacob said little more. He steered the 
boat back to the now deserted pier in the West 
Cut, and left the convict in a clump of near-by 
palmetto. As he started off, Gillis called him 
back. 

“Just say to the old man that while I was in 


82 


SEA ISLAND BOYS 


the pen I could not, of course, get the ear of any 
of the Roanoaks. But I can now. And Jake, if 
you or your father meditate any treachery, you 
won’t find me here when you get hack. I’m 
watching you. And be sure you bring plenty 
of grub. Dodging bloodhounds and fighting 
mosquitoes in the swamps don’t lessen a man’s 
appetite.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


MR. EHRICH's DISCOMPOSURE — SIDNEY JR. AT THE 
WHARF. 

Jacob felt sick at heart as he reflected [over 
what had happened that night. Life hardly ap- 
peared worth living just then. 

By opposing himself to the general custom 
regarding the freedom of the fishing grounds, 
his father had already increased the social pre- 
judice against the Ehrich family. Jacob’s re- 
ception by Paul and Legare, notwithstanding 
his attempted apologies, evinced how he himself 
would now be treated by those he most desired 
to stand well with. Even Miss Sona Legare 
would probably snub him when next they met. 


84 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


On the heels of this comes the unwelcome ap- 
parition of Hiram Ehrich’s former clerk, fresh 
from a prison pen, and uttering the most pre- 
posterous threats. 

Jacob did not believe them, yet he felt very 
uncomfortable as he hurried through the pine 
woods avenue leading from the landing to the 
house. 

As the hour was rather late, Jacob found his 
father alone in the library. The rest of the 
family seemed to have retired. Mr. Ehrich was 
at his desk, where he spent much of his time of 
evenings when at the house. As Jacob came in, 
he frowned. 

“ Are you alone, father V 9 asked the son, trem- 
ulous with suppressed emotion. 

“Yes. And I want to talk to you, Jake. 
Where have you been ? ’ ’ 

“I was out rowing,’ ’ replied Jacob, avoiding 
the primary object of his trip in the boat. “The 
tide carried me out to the banks, near the inlet. 
I met a man there, father. He came to the 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


85 


wharf with me, and he is waiting to see yon. 
Can yon gness who it is V ’ 

4 4 Some tramp, I reckon. ’ ’ Mr. Ehrich looked 
more impatient than curious, yet his son’s ex- 
cited manner did not escape his notice. 4 4 Why 
did you not send him about his business 1 What 
did you bring him over for ? ’ ’ 

44 I couldn’t help myself. He jumped aboard 
while I was aground. He said he must see you. 
Father, it is Bad Gillis— ” 

44 Wha-atl” 

Sidney Ehrich ’s hard, dark face grew ashy 
all at once, and Jacob, witnessing it, felt his 
heart sink. Could there really be any truth in 
Gillis ’ alarming insinuations 1 

4 4 It is Bad, sure enough, father. He looks as 
if he had lain in the swamps for weeks, and he 
wants us td fetch him clothes and something to 
eat.” 

Mr. Ehrich expelled his breath in one huge 
sigh. Then he tried to look incredulous. 

4 4 You must he crazy, Jacob. Bad is in the 
pen. It is impossible. You have been dream- 


86 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


ing, my boy,” he added, almost in an entreat- 
ing tone. 

“I wish I had been. Bnt he is down at the 
wharf, and no mistake. It’s Rad, with his 
ragged stripes still on, and all—” 

“We will get help and capture him!” broke 
in Mr. Ehrich, hastily. “Go call Sidney.” 

“Listen, father! He said we dare not go 
back on him. He insinuated terrible things. 
He told me to say that if yon were not down at 
the wharf soon with money, grub and clothes, 
he would go over to, Roanoak Hall. He says, 
now he is out, he can get the ear of the Roan- 
oaks. To show how confident he feels, he said 
to me, ‘You tell the old man I am here, and if 
he says to give the alarm, you give it.’ Then 
he added, ‘But he won’t say it, Jake.’ ” 

Mr. Ehrich slowly collapsed as Jacob rapidly 
went over these words. The boy no longer 
doubted. His father’s manner was more con- 
vincing than mere words. Gillis had not spoken 
without warrant. Jacob could now see that. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


87 


‘ 4 Shall I call Sidney now, sir?” he asked, 
though he divined what the reply would be. 

Mr. Ehrich had sunk down in his chair in a 
daze of thought. He ran his hands through his 
hair, making it stand yet more erect as he 
looked up. J acob repeated his query. 

“No, Jake; no. Don’t call any one.” 

The man’s manner grew fond and even en- 
treating. He fawned upon his son in a way 
Jacob had never seen him do, except in the old 
Charleston days, when Ehrich, the pawnbroker, 
was very anxious to make a sale to a hesitating 
customer. 

“I must trust you, Jake. You must slip into 
the dining-room quietly. There are eatables 
and some wine on the sideboard. Wrap up a 
lunch, Jake, and hurry, my son. He may be 
gone— to— to Roanoak’s!” 

Mr. Ehrich looked strangely alarmed at the 
idea. Jacob, with his heart crying out within 
him, hurried off, hardly knowing what he did. 
When he returned, with some food wrapped in 
a paper, his father was waiting in the hall with 


88 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


liis hat on. A bundle of clothes was under his 
arm, and he was nervously counting a roll of 
hills in the dim light of the hall lamp. 

Again Jacob felt a sickening sensation, hut 
his father hurried him outside in a stealthy 
manner. 

“We must hustle, Jake,” whispered Mr. Eh- 
rich. 1 1 Gillis may he gone, and then — 9 9 

He broke off abruptly. 

“ Father,” spoke Jacob, quickly, “is it really 
so what Rad said to me? Is all of it so?” 

“I— of course. But don’t ask questions, boy. 
Hurry on faster. He may he gone.” 

Jacob did not want to ask anything more just 
then. He realized that this ragged escaped con- 
vict was somehow connected with something 
which his own father feared. That it was some- 
thing most compromising and dishonorable 
could hardly be questioned, after what Jacob 
had seen and heard that night. 

The wind had risen and the melancholy 
soughing of the pines sounded inexpressibly 
dreary, while the pale moonlight was more 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


89 


ghostly than cheerful, as it played queer, fan- 
tastic tricks among the waving shadows of the 
branches upon the wire grass. 

Shortly before reaching the pier the pine 
woods gave way to a fringe of palmetto, that in 
turn debouched upon a narrow expanse of salt- 
water marsh, dotted here and there with iso- 
lated cabbage-palms or small clumps of saw- 
palmetto. At the edge of the woods father and 
son halted, in obedience to a signal from Mr. 
Ehrich. 

“Hist!” he whispered, nervously. “I think 
we are followed. Remember, Jake, if anything 
happens, not a word of what has passed to-night 
to any one. Do you hear ! ’ ’ 

Too sick at heart to be startled at any inter- 
ruption, Jacob wearily assented. It seemed to 
him like sealing a compact with some myste- 
rious shadow of dishonor, yet what else could 
he do! It was his father who entreated, rather 
than commanded him. 

The sounds in their rear resolved into a swift 
patter of feet. Then Sidney junior bobbed into 


90 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


view, looking eagerly about, for the others had 
stepped aside, behind a pine. Sidney stopped 
and peered around. Then his father pounced 
on him, with a fierceness Sid had never been 
subjected to before. 

“You, Sidney!” he exclaimed, seizing the lad 
by the collar. “Why ain’t you in bed, eh?” 

“D-don’t shake me so, dad! I h-heard you 
and Jake g-go out, and— and I thought I’d fol- 
low and s-see what was u-u-up— don’t, dad!” 

Mr. Ehrich was shaking and cuffing the in- 
quisitive boy with a half frantic vigor, entirely 
unnatural with him. Sid began to blubber. 

“Now you get back to the house,” ordered 
the father, his voice tremulous with mixed pas- 
sion and apprehension. “If I find you awake 
when I get back, I’ll wear you to a frazzle. I 
mean what I say. Off you go !” 

The hitherto half-spoiled and wholly indulged 
lad was simply too overcome by the drastic sud- 
denness of this assault to say a word. He re- 
treated, whimpering, in the direction of the 
house. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


91 


Mr. Ehrich watched and frowned and fid- 
geted until Sidney had disappeared, then 
turned to Jacob, who, amid his own painful 
emotions, had beheld this scene apathetically. 

“Now, Jake, which way? Hurry! He may 
not wait— ” 

A muffled shout down near the pier arose. 
Then came a furious splashing of water from 
behind the cluster of cabbage-palms, where Gil- 
lis was supposed to be concealed. 

Mr. Ehrich stared, gasped, muttered to him- 
self, then dragged Jacob after him, at a run. 

“I believe he is gone. Which way, Jake? 
That nearest clump? Hurry! hurry! Perhaps 
it was only an alligator or a porpoise among 
the fish . 9 ’ 

Father and son, both infected with the same 
torturing eagerness, ran along the shell road 
leading to the wharf, and paused near the clus- 
ter of trees. Everything now seemed to be 
quiet. No one but themselves was in sight. 

They approached the palmettos, and Jacob 
called in a subdued tone. There was no reply. 


92 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Mr. Ehrich, unable to patiently endure the 
strain of suspense any longer, dashed into the 
shadow of the trees, and made a brief but thor- 
ough search. When he came out, he tottered, 
as if the actual facts of the case were too ter- 
rible to be calmly borne. 

4 4 What is the matter with you, father ?” asked 
J acob. ‘ 1 Are you ill ? Where is Gillis ? ’ ’ 

Mr. Ehrich sank down on a tussock and 
mopped his face with his handkerchief, as he 
thought of what might take place at Roanoak 
Hall before morning. 

“Ruined! ruined !” he ejaculated, regardless 
of Jacobi query. 

The boy, with a new, vague terror at his 
heart, plunged through the clump of trees in his 
turn, also calling at intervals, in cautious tones : 

“Gillis! Ob, Rad! Why don’t you answer, 
man?” 

But there was no reply. Neither did he see 
any one. > 

The convict was gone. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


SON A AND CLAR'SY— THE BOAT AND FUGITIVE. 

After slipper, Sona Legare went to her room 
at Roanoak Hall, accompanied by Clar’sy, the 
mulatto waiting girl, who usually attended on 
the feminine visitors at the squired. Paul and 
Edgar had not returned from the fishing, and 
Squire Roanoak was in his own den, busied over 
some vexing plantation accounts. 

Sona began to look around for her satchel, 
but could not find it. Then she was struck by 
a sudden remembrance. 

4 ‘When I crossed Waccamaw Island,” said 
she, “I thought I felt something give way. It 
must have been the strap that held the satchel. 
But my pony was loping, and I did not think 
much of it at the time. ’ ’ 


94 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“What you gwine ter do now?” asked 
Clar’sy. “All you night Dings in dat satchel, 
ain’t hit?” 

“Yes; and as there is no young girl here, I 
cannot borrow. Oh, Clar’sy! I’ll tell you 
what. You and I will slip out, run down to the 
landing, take one of the canoes and go over and 
look for it. It’s moonlight, and we’ll be sure to 
find it. I will then have what I need, and Aunt 
Europa need not know. There is no harm in 
going, but she might think it hardly the proper 
thing.” 

“Why not tell Unk Ham when he come back? 
He go look fo’ hit.” 

“No, I’d rather go myself.” 

So Clar’sy assented, and the two girls stole 
quietly down the stairs. Without discovery 
they made their way furtively along the avenue 
of pines to the water front, paddled across the 
cut in a small dug-out that the fishermen had 
not taken off, and were soon on the Ehrich side 
of Waccamaw Island, looking carefully along 
the bridle-path for the missing satchel. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


95 


The moon now shone brightly. Presently the 
girls found the satchel lying in plain view in 
the middle of the path. Sona pounced upon it, 
uttering a cry of delight. When she found that 
its contents were intact, she gave it to Clar’sy, 
and the two were on the point of retracing their 
steps as a sound of oars was heard. 

From where they stood the faint outline of a 
boat could be seen coming down the West Cut. 
It approached the Ehrich pier rapidly, as if the 
occupants were about to make a landing there. 

“Let us go,” said Sona. “We must not be 
seen. ’ ’ 

Sona’s words were cut short by the sudden 
sight of a man emerging from the palmettos at 
the water ’s edge close to the pier, who ran down 
stream, splashing the water as he went. 

The boat, close at hand, was nearer to the 
woods than the man, whose position was on the 
point from which the wharf projected. The 
boat, coasting along in a sort of bite, had thus 
doubtless sent the man into the water rather 
than toward the woods. 


96 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


The man fell, uttering a muffled shout, hut 
was up again in an instant, and already was 
nearly across the narrow and shallow cut. But, 
instead of pursuing the flying man, the boat in- 
creased its speed, and made down stream at a 
pace that put it behind a point of land below, 
just as the figures of Mr. Ehrich and Jake be- 
came visible as they hurried toward where the 
convict was expected to be. 

All this was observed by Sona Legare and 
Clar ’sy under the bright light of the moon now 
high in the east. A vague alarm took posses- 
sion of them, and they hastened up the central 
ridge of the island, feeling as if they had re- 
mained too long already. In their haste, they 
missed the path, and wandered into a grove of 
turkey oaks, where the light penetrated more 
dimly. 

“Sho now!” exclaimed Clar’sy. “En’t dish 
yere pervokin’? Seem like dat path orter be 
out yan way. ’ * 

Thus diverted, she sought the missing path 
in one direction, while Sona looked in another. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


97 


The latter was presently startled at hearing a 
loud yell from the maid. This was followed by 
a shrill, unintelligible jabbering as Clar’sy ap- 
peared to adjure some one or some thing to 
keep off. 

Sona ran forward. Clar’sy was no longer to 
be seen, though the sound of her retreat through 
the shrubbery was audible. Sona was about to 
follow, when the apparition of the convict, still 
in full retreat, halted her and brought her heart 
into her throat. 

“Who are you?” demanded Gillis, his cour- 
age reviving as he saw only a girl before him. 
‘ ‘ Who is that making such a racket yonder ? ’ ’ 

Sona stood motionless, her heart sinking 
lower and lower after its first leap of appre- 
hension, for she distinguished the fierce, tramp- 
like aspect of the man. Nevertheless, she man- 
aged to say : 

“It was only a servant-girl you heard. Please 
to let me pass.” 

“Easy now! I’m in a close place myself. 
What boat was that going down the cut?” 


98 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


( 1 I don ’t know. I must follow my maid now. ’ * 

“ Yon ’ll stay here and answer me!” inter- 
rupted Gillis, boldly seizing her arm. 

The hot blood of the Legares momentarily 
overcame the girl’s timidity when she felt the 
rude touch of the man. Jerking loose, she 
struck the convict smartly with her open hand 
and darted after Clar’sy, whose screeches were 
loudly in evidence not far away. 

Gillis felt his cheek and appeared dazed by 
the unexpectedness of such an act, then he fol- 
lowed in pursuit. Meanwhile the boat below 
had crossed the cut, and was rowing rapidly up 
the Roanoak side of the island, when Clar’sy’s 
screams saluted the ears of its occupants. At 
the landing they saw the colored girl run into 
the shallow water, wildly waving Sona ’s satchel 
and still screaming. 

“What on earth can he up?” said Paul Roan- 
oak. “We seemed to have stirred things up 
over at the Ehrich wharf, and now the deuce is 
to pay at our own landing.” 

“Uncle Ham,” remarked Edgar Legare, who 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


99 


was still seated in the stern, wrapped np, “yon 
should not have insisted on tolling us off to the 
upper oyster bar, instead of our going home at 
once, as we intended. You seem to have raised 
the Old Harry. Put in, and let us see what is 
the matter. ’ ’ 

“Yes, pull in,” added Paul. “I wouldn’t 
stop at Ehrich’s landing if that fellow that run 
from us had been my best friend. But we can 
do as we please here— Bless me! Hurry up, 
Ham ! That sounds like Clar ’sy ’s voice. ’ ’ 

As they pulled in to the island shore, Clar ’sy 
came plunging through the shoal water and 
climbed into the canoe. 

“Bless grashus! Dat you, Marse Paul? En’t 
I glad you come ! Somer you bettah go and look 
atter Miss Sona.” 

“What’s that?” called Edgar, rising and 
throwing off his wrap. “Where is Miss Sona?” 

“ What are you doing out here this time of 
night?” added Paul. 

“Miss Sona, she up and made me go. Dat 
how kum I yere.” 

L.ofC. 


100 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


° ‘ That is Sona’s satchel,” said Legare, pick- 
ing np the article from the seat where Clar’sy 
had dropped it. “What in the world has hap- 
pened, Clar’sy 

Clar’sy, with much panting and gesticulation, 
managed to relate the cause that had brought 
Sona and herself to the island; then told what 
the two had seen, and how she herself ran, think- 
ing that Sona would follow. Before she had 
fairly finished, the two young men were ashore, 
running up the path, and calling on Sona to 
make her presence known. 

Uncle Ham deliberately fastened the large 
dug-out beside the one used by the girls, and 
took up a camp-axe that was in the canoe. 

“Whur you gwine, Unk Ham?” asked 
Clar’sy, unwilling to return to the shore and 
dreading to be left alone. 

“Shet yo’ mouf, gal!” he retorted, angrily. 
“If I uz Marse Edgar, I lay I w’ar you out fer 
leavin’ of Miss Sona in dish yere way.” 

Then the old man himself disappeared. A 
girlish cry or two rang out in the distance. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


101 


Clar’sy threw herself in the bottom of the dug- 
out and shivered, apprehensively. 

A heavy splash in the water caused her to peer 
over the gunwale. Then she nearly fainted, 
for a forbidding-looking tramp was jumping 
into the smaller canoe. When Clar’sy was un- 
able to do anything else, she could always 
scream. She screamed now. 

Gillis— for it was he— uttered a savage im- 
precation, and threatened to kill the frightened 
girl then and there if she uttered another sound. 
Then he took a boat-pole, and, pushing off, 
punted the canoe across the East Cut, plunged 
ashore and disappeared. 

Meanwhile Paul, running up the ridge, came 
across Son a herself, seated quietly on a log and 
looking quite composed. 

‘ 4 That you, Paul ? ’ ’ she said. ‘Tam glad you 
came. I— I lost the path, it seems.” 

4 4 Thank goodness, I have found you safe, 
Sona ! Why did you not let some of the servants 
go after your satchel? It is not always safe to 
be out at night. -There are so many bad men 


102 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


wandering about. Who was it you and Clar’sy 
saw ? ’ ’ 

“Then you have found Clar’sy? I’m glad of 
that.” Sona appeared not to heed Paul’s last 
query. “I think we might as well go to the 
house.” 

So back they went toward the boat and were 
soon joined by Edgar and Uncle Ham. Edgar 
was alarmed enough to be provoked. 

“You are very imprudent, Sona,” said he. 
“Whom did you see? And why did you venture 
on such a trip with no one but Clar’sy?” 

“One would think I had done something ter- 
rible ! I only wanted to get my satchel. I knew 
pretty near where I had lost it. ’ ’ 

Sona pouted and bridled, but Paul divined 
that she was unusually reticent as to the particu- 
lars of their surprise. 

At the dug-out, Clar ’sy broke into hurried ex- 
planations as to what had befallen her there. 

Paul questioningly eyed Sona, who com- 
pressed her lips and said nothing. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


103 


“This must be looked into,” said Legare, as 
he and old Ham pushed the dug-out across. 

Then the party hastened through the pines to 
the hall. On entering the general sitting-room, 
an unusual sight confronted them. 

Clar’sy shrank back, uttering an exclamation 
of fear. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THROUGH THE WINDOW — SONA TAKES A RIDE- 
BROTHER EDGAR APPEARS. 

A stout, clean-shaven old man, of a com- 
manding air and presence, was seated in an 
easy-chair near the centre of the room. Beside 
him stood a tall, faded lady, with a look of ap- 
prehension overspreading the usual aristocratic 
composure of her face and manner. 

Standing before them was an unkempt, rag- 
ged man in dingy convict garb. Behind him an 
open window, with a low sill, indicated the prob- 
able method of his entrance. Edgar Legare 
gave this character a keen glance. 

i ‘Rad Gillis, by all that’s wonderful!” ex- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


105 


claimed the Charleston editor. “Get to the 
door, Ham.” 

While Paul stationed himself at the window 
and Ham moved to the open door, Sona’s eyes 
lighted np with a strange, soft expression, as if 
she pitied the hunted man thus seemingly 
brought to bay. 

“You need not fear me,” said Gillis, noticing 
these precautionary moves. “I was trying to 
get away, I confess, but when I found myself at 
Roanoak Hall, after I left the dug-out, I thought 
I might as well stop and tell my tale and he 
done. I dare say Ehrich won’t help me, any- 
how.” 

“The best place for you to tell your tale will 
he in the parish jail,” replied Mr. Legare, 
promptly. “It must have been you who scared 
my sister and her maid. Don’t be uneasy, Miss 
Europa. Has he said anything out of the way, 
Uncle James!” 

The squire hesitated a little. 

“Well, no,” he said. “The fellow had just 
jumped in at that open window hardly a minute 


106 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


before you came. He was saying that he meant 
no harm. That was after I had ordered him out, 
and was about to call for some of the negroes. 
Europa,” he added, in a stately, condescending 
way, “seat yourself. We are in no danger now, 
surely . 9 9 

“None in the least, uncle. But I know this 
fellow. I attended his trial. He is an escaped 
convict . 9 9 

Miss Europa drew back, expressing by her 
manner intense aversion and added alarm, at 
these words of her nephew. 

“Send the dreadful person away !’ 9 she 
begged. “Sona, come to me, child. Don’t go 
near the man . 9 9 

But Sona only smiled, and her mobile face 
still expressed more of commiseration than dis- 
like. 

Gillis, seeing the aversion inspired by his 
presence, sneered visibly. He noted, however, 
that Paul, for some reason, drew away from 
the window. Was it to give the hunted man a 
chance to escape ? 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


107 


Gillis, however, resolved to make another ef- 
fort to tell what he had— under a sudden im- 
pulse-sprung into the room to reveal. 

“ Squire Roanoak,” said he, “I know a thing 
or two about your neighbor, Ehrich, that you 
ought also to know. I did not intend at first to 
blow to you, but— ” 

‘ ‘ Silence, sir ! ” commanded the squire, at last 
aroused by what seemed to him the degradation 
of listening to a convict ’s yarns. 

4 4 We will take you where you can talk, my 
man,” remarked Edgar, at the same time mo- 
tioning for Paul and Ham to close in. 

Gillis saw what was up. He likewise under- 
stood from the squire’s hardening countenance 
that he would not be listened to there. Nor had 
he any notion of being captured then, for he 
now felt only resentment at this rebuff. 

He had wanted to tell the Roanoaks that 
which it would have benefited them to know, 
hoping, perhaps, that in return they would feed 
and shelter him, and even also exert themselves 
to secure for him a pardon. Instead of this, re- 


108 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


capture and detestation were about all that he 
could read in the threatening faces around him. 

Sona looked different, hut she was only a 
girl. Perhaps Paul— Here an advance by Ed- 
gar Legare and Uncle Ham caused the convict 
to leap towards the window. Paul was there. 
Something in the boy’s eye encouraged the man, 
and as he passed, Paul heard these whispered 
words : 

“Come to the big oak— Towie Swamp— I—’ ’ 

A leap out into the darkness, and the convict 
was gone. 

Edgar advanced angrily, when Sona cried 
out: 

“Poor fellow ! I am glad he got away.” 

But only Paul heeded the words. 

“I am ashamed of you, Paul,” said Edgar. 
‘ i I thought you had more nerve than to let that 
fellow through. After him— all hands ! ’ 1 

And Edgar, unmindful of his still wet cloth- 
ing, leaped out into the grounds, closely fol- 
lowed by Ham. Paul did not stir, 

“Why don’t you follow them, sir?” de- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


109 


manded the squire, angrily. “It is the least 
you can do. I am ashamed of you, too.” 

“I’m not, Paul,” declared Sona. “I hope 
you will stay right here. ’ ’ 

The squire stared at this unexpected ally, 
while Sona serenely continued : 

“When he overtook me on the island, I told 
him I was helpless, and asked him not to harm 
a girl like me. He said he wouldn’t harm me 
for the world. It was only at first that he acted 
so fiercely.” 

“Confound his impudence!” growled the 
squire. “If you were my daughter, Sona, I 
should punish you for being out there.” 

“I know, uncle. But don’t be cross. After 
he went from me so meekly, I felt sorry for 
him. I don ’t care what he has done. I hope he 
will get clear off. There, now ! ’ ’ 

“Sona,” said Paul, in an undertone. “I saw 
you felt sorry for him, so I had to feel sorry, 
too. Neither Cousin Ed nor Ham will catch 
him this dark night.” 

Sona flashed a grateful glance, and as if to 


110 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


bear out Paul’s word, Edgar Legare and the ne- 
gro at this moment re-entered the house. The 
convict was not to be seen. 

“What did you mean by letting the rascal 
by?” asked Legare, irritably, of Paul. “You 
did not even put out your hand.” 

“I must say that your conduct is susceptible 
Of only two interpretations, neither of which is 
creditable to you, as a son of mine. ’ ’ 

As the squire got this off, in his stately and 
somewhat affected way, Paul could not resist a 
smile. 

“Perhaps I did wrong,” he admitted. “But 
I felt sorry for him. He had come here, he said, 
to tell us something which he thought we ought 
to know.” 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Edgar. “He only 
wanted to curry favor for some selfish reason 
of his own. ’ ’ 

“Then, too,” added Paul, “I saw that Sona 
felt the same way as I did; and there you are. 
Heigho! I am going to bed. I should think, 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Ill 


Cousin Ed, that you would want your own wet 
clothes off.” 

With this Paul bade them good-night, and 
vanished before more words could he said. Sona 
presently did likewise; then the others, one by 
one, dispersed to their respective bedrooms. 

The following afternoon, as Sona was riding 
through the pine woods on her pony, a little col- 
ored boy handed her a crumpled piece of paper, 
on which were written a few words, in a clerkly 
hand and in lead pencil. 

i 1 Please excuse this, ’ ’ it ran. ‘ 1 1 saw that you 
and Paul Roanoak seemed to have some pity 
for an unfortunate wretch, who has been more 
sinned against than sinning. Indeed, this is 
true. If you really wish to hear my story, give 
this note to Paul, and ask him to bring you to 
the place he knows of, some afternoon within a 
week. Come just before sundown. I will be 
there every evening, if not taken meantime. 
You see, I trust you both. I feel that you will 
not try to make my lot more miserable than it 


112 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


is. I can also tell Paul something that will be 
of great benefit for him to know. R. G.” 

“Poor fellow !” thought the girl. 

Then she looked around for the little negro, 
to question him as to the giver of the note ; but 
he had suddenly taken alarm, and was scooting 
over the crest of a gentle ridge like a rabbit. 

She turned in the other direction, and the 
cause of the boy’s flight became apparent. 

Young Jacob Ehrich was approaching 
through the woods. His horse was picking its 
way at will along one of the many cow trails 
thereabouts, while Jake himself sat with bowed 
head and dejected mien. 

Sona ’s first impulse was to canter away. She 
had listened at the breakfast table to Edgar’s 
and Paul’s account of what had happened at 
the fishing ground the night before. To one of 
her training and disposition, the action of the 
elder Ehrich and Sidney was, as she expressed 
it at the time, ‘ ‘ Perfectly disgusting ! ’ ’ 

She almost wished that she had never seen an 
Ehrich. She certainly felt regret that such peo- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


113 


pie must be numbered among their neighbors. 
On the heels of this, however, the picture of 
poor Jake, rowing up and vainly attempting to 
soften or explain away the rudeness of his fa- 
ther and brother, persisted in intruding itself. 

It thrust itself before her fancy now, even as 
she was about to coldly ride away, and caused 
her to rein up her pony and hold out her hand, 
while a smile of friendly welcome irradiated 
her pretty face. 

“Then you won’t turn against me?” said 
Jake, impulsively, as his melancholy, handsome 
features flashed forth into an expression of 
pleasure. 

“Why, no! W 7 hy should I? You and I have 
always been good friends. I don’t know why 
the rudeness of others should set us against 
each other as long as we— we really like to— to 
be friendly. ’ ’ 

“Neither do I.” 

Jacob was like another person now as the two 
cantered side by side through the open pine 
woods, with a soft carpet of wire-grass and dead 


114 SEA ISLAND BOYS. 

pine-needles beneath the unshod feet of the po- 
nies. 

Sona had thrust the note into her glove, and 
presently the couple were chatting about various 
unimportant subjects quite gaily. Jacob, 
though, appeared to feel as if some apology 
were due. 

“ I was awfully sorry, Miss Sona, that father 
and Sidney acted so. Yet, what could I do?” 

“I am sure you did all any one could be ex- 
pected to do. You tried to apologize, and got 
snubbed for your pains. Didn’t you, now?” 

“I didn’t know what else to do. Besides, I 
liked Paul, and I wanted to meet your brother, 
you know. ’ ’ 

4 ‘Why did you want to meet Edgar? He is 
good and all that, but even I am a little afraid 
of him at times. ’ ’ 

“You see, he is an editor. He writes articles, 
and they are printed. He makes money, and is 
independent. Oh, Miss Sona, you don’t know 
how I long for just such a career as your broth- 
er has made for himself! That was one rea- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


115 


son why I wanted to meet him; yet there was 
another. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Indeed! Edgar mnst be a more desirable 
person to know than even I was aware of. Pray, 
tell me what the other reason was . 9 ’ 

J acob colored a little, and Sona, hardly know- 
ing why, blushed likewise. It made her look 
prettier than ever. 

“I reckon it must have been because he was 
your brother.” 

Sona started her pony, and laughed lightly, 
possibly to hide a mild degree of confusion. As 
she did so, something white fluttered from her 
whip hand to the ground. Jacob saw it and 
sprang down. v 

‘ ‘ What is the matter now ? ’ ’ said she, not no- 
ticing her loss ; then! her color fled momentarily 
as she took back the crumpled paper. 

“It may be of no importance, ’ ’ observed 
Jake, as he remounted. “But«I thought you 
ought to have it back . 9 ’ 

“ Certainly,’ ’ said Sona, in an absent way, re- 
garding Jacob so intently the while, as their 


116 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


ponies walked along, that the youth grew con- 
fused in his turn. 

‘ 4 Have I done anything wrong?” he asked. 

“Do you know a man named Radnor Gillis?” 
said the girl, with an air of sudden decision. 

It was now Jacob’s turn to grow pale. This 
he did to a degree that Sona wondered. 

“Yes,” replied Jacob, at length, in a con- 
strained tone. “I do know the man. Has he— 
has he been to— to Roanoak Hall?” 

The question escaped his lips in spite of him- 
self. 

“I saw him last night. He also came to the 
Hall. Brother Edgar and Uncle Ham tried to 
capture him. I was sorry for him, and so was 
Paul. Perhaps it was wrong. I hardly know. 
An way, the man got away. I will be frank 
with you, Jacob. This note is from him.” 

For an instant Jake felt a wild desire to be 
equally confidential with Sona, but the thought 
that he might compromise his father restrained 
him. He merely said : 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


117 


“The man surprised me in my boat last 
night and wanted something to eat.” 

“I hope you fed him well. Poor fellow! lie 
looked so hungry and anxious.” 

Sona then related how she had first met Gillis 
on the island, after he had fled from the boat 
containing Paul and Edgar Legare, and also 
told how her sympathies had been excited. 

The mysterious flight of the convict was now 
made clear to Jacob; for neither he nor his fa- 
ther had arrived at the wharf in time to see the 
passing boat. He felt relieved when he elicited 
from Sona that Gillis had not been permitted to 
talk at Roanoak Hall. Whatever it was that 
the man wanted to tell, Jacob felt that it would 
be to his father’s injury. Though he failed to 
sympathize with his father’s ways, as his broth- 
er Sidney did, Jake was too dutiful a son to 
wish, by word or deed, to cause his parent trou- 
ble, whether trouble was merited or not. 

Sona was true, and he felt that she was his 
friend still. Would she continue thus were she 
to know that there was a likelihood of Gillis’ 


118 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


being in possession of facts that would redound 
to his father’s discredit? This fear, and the con- 
sciousness that the good name of the whole fam- 
ily might be placed in the keeping of others to 
a dangerous degree, made Jacob reticent 
throughout. 

‘ ‘ I went to the house to get him something to 
eat ; but he ran away before I got back. I was 
puzzled at what could have scared him, but your 
account explains all that. ’ ’ 

“What do you suppose it could have been that 
the wretched man wanted to tell Uncle James 
about?” asked Sona, innocently enough. 

“I— I don’t know,” faltered Jake. 

Nor did he. He only feared the worst, though 
he really knew nothing of a certainty as to the 
subject of Gillis' proposed revelation. 

“I know one thing,” continued Sona. “I 
hope the poor fellow will get clean away. Ed- 
gar says he has been imprisoned five years al- 
ready. I’m sure that is punishment enough for 
any one for anything.” 

Here Sona would have liked to tell Jacob 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


119 


about what the note contained; but feeling— as 
Jake did— that the safety of another was in- 
volved in such confidence, she refrained, and 
only said : 

“This note acknowledges that Gillis is aware 
of the sympathy felt foi his suffering by Paul 
and me. That shows he is not without grati- 
tude. If Paul had not been willing, he could 
not have escaped.’ ’ 

“There comes your brother!” suddenly ex- 
claimed Jacob, conscious of a sudden sinking at 
the heart as Edgar Legare galloped up with a 
fowling piece across his saddle-bow, and accom- 
panied by two fine pointers, one of which was 
our old acquaintance, Don. 

“Sona,” said her brother, nodding to Jacob 
with an air of haughty civility, “I think Miss 
Europa was asking after you. Probably you 
had better ride back, as we are going home to- 
morrow. 9 9 

Jacob saw at once that Legare had no notion 
of leaving them together. He also could not 
help feeling that Edgar’s behavior toward him- 


120 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


self stopped only just short of such actual rude- 
ness as a man might consider it worth while to 
show to a presuming boy. 

“Well, I must be going, too,” said he, deter- 
mining to relieve Sona of the embarrassment of 
assuming the initiative in leaving. “Good-by, 
Miss Sona. Good-by, Mr. Legare. ’ ’ 

Edgar Legare made no reply. Jacob can- 
tered off, feeling very sore over such treatment 
from the man whom he wanted especially to 
have think well of him. Legare turned to Sona. 

“Have I not been a good brother?” he asked. 

“I suppose so. But you are very rude to my 
friends at times. ’ 9 

Sona frowned slightly as she spoke. 

“If I am rude, I have reason to be so. It is 
for your good.” 

“No one shall make me believe that Jacob 
Ehrich is bad or common, or anything of that 
sort.” 

“I mentioned no names. But, in fact, my 
dear sister, the Ehrichs are not suitable people 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


121 


for us to know. You must be guided by your 
elders in some things.” 

“I like Jacob, and I don’t care who knows it 
—there!” 

“Whew! Well, then, I don’t like Jacob, and 
I care not who knows that, either. But, bless 
me ! We mustn ’t quarrel over these newcomers. 
Listen to the dogs ! I believe they have started 
a rabbit. Bide on, Sona, unless you would like 
a rabbit chase. ’ ’ 

“ There— there, Ed ! ” cried the girl, excitedly, 
yet carefully hiding her note this time. ‘ ‘ Look 
at Don ! There goes Brer Babbit ! ’ ’ 

And off the two went through an old field 
overgrown with briers and sedge grass. The 
dogs were in full cry after a brown and white 
ball that went leaping and bounding from 
thicket to thicket, over ridges and through gul- 
lies. 

At times the chase led round and round some 
unusually thick places, then the riders sat still 
and the ponies pricked their ears. Then off and 
away they would go again, until at last bunny 


122 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


was overtaken by the dogs and killed in a trice. 
At that Sona grew remorseful. 

“I declare, Ed, I wish you had not come by 
with your cruel dogs. What harm does a poor 
little rabbit do V ’ 

‘ 4 None in the world, unless in being great 
sport for the dogs.” 

“ Great sport!” Sona frowned again as she 
rode off. 6 ‘ Men are such cruel creatures. Two- 
thirds of what they call fun or sport consists of 
hurting each other or killing helpless things. 
I’m off, Ed.” 


CHAPTER X. 


IN THE SWAMP— OLD JA-JA. 

Legare called in his dogs and pnt them after 
quail. When he returned to Roanoak Hall he 
had a good bag to show. 

Sona ate quail for breakfast next morning 
with an undisturbed appetite, and Edgar fore- 
bore to remind her of this physical lapse from 
her moral tenderness of the afternoon before. 

That night Sona drew Paul aside and showed 
him the note she had received from the convict. 
Paul looked grave at first, but when she an- 
nounced her determination to go with him to 
the rendezvous the very next afternoon, he re- 
lented. 

“I don’t suppose there will be any harm,” he 


124 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


said. “ I can ride over to your house. It is not 
far from there to Towie Swamp.’ ’ 

“We can go out riding, and make some excuse 
on our return about being delayed, if we are out 
later than we ought to be. I hope Edgar will 
he away somewhere.” 

In accordance with this programme, Paul and 
Sona on the following evening rode off through 
the pine woods from the Legare house, the girl 
and her brother having meantime gone home, as 
was suggested. Edgar was out on the planta- 
tion with his father, so the two had no trouble 
in getting olf. 

They “loped” their ponies for half an hour 
through the pines until they came to a wall of 
hummock. This soon merged into swamp, 
where a thick undergrowth mingled with lofty 
forest trees that canopied the place with gloom. 

A narrow bridle path led them deviously so 
far from the sunlight and open woods that Sona 
grew nervous. At last Paul helped her down 
and tied the ponies to overhanging grape-vines. 
Then they started on foot, leaving the almost 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


125 


blind trail and plunging, under Paul ’s guidance, 
into the dimmest recesses of the great swamp. 

4 ‘Oh, me!” exclaimed Sona. “I fear I ought 
not to have come. I am a-a-afraid! A-a-h! 
What is that, Paul?” 

Towie Swamp, though not more than three 
miles from Legare House, had all the appear- 
ances of remoteness and inaccessibility. Things 
looked to Sona, as she grasped Paul’s arm, as 
if no human being had ever before penetrated 
so far into this dolorous region of mire, tus- 
sock and malaria. The two were walking on 
logs and stumps, and springing from one tree- 
root to another. 

“What is what, Sona?” said Paul, half laugh- 
ing. “I don’t see anything alarming.” 

“Can’t you hear?” shivered the girl. “There 
it goes again!” 

A wail like that of a child arose for the second 
time, and was succeeded by a series of weird 
sounds that ended in a dissonant screech. 

‘ ‘ Oh, that is only a squinch-owl, as the negroes 
call them. Look ! There he goes !” 


126 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


A grayish bird flapped its noiseless wings so 
close to Sona that she shut her eyes. 

1 ‘ It looks larger than it ought, seems to me , 9 9 
she said. 

“Well, it is of a larger species. But there is 
no harm in them, unless yon have chickens to 
lose. But here we are! Do you see that great 
live-oak yonder ? ’ ’ 

Paul pointed to an immense tree, the branches 
of which covered at least a fourth of an acre. 
The trunk was tremendous. Fifteen feet up, 
half a dozen great limbs forked in every direc- 
tion, each one of them being larger than the 
other gum, hay and ash trees around. 

“This is the big Towie Oak/’ said he. “Peo- 
ple say that it is hundreds of years old. Now, 
if our man is here, we—” 

“There he is!” interrupted Sona. “No— it 
is some one else. Let us go, Paul. ’ 9 

A figure suddenly appeared, descending with 
preternatural activity through the branches of 
the great oak. In the gloom of the swamp— as 
the sun was nearly down— objects were only in- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


127 


distinctly revealed. The figure, on reaching the 
ground, dodged quickly behind the tree. Then 
the two young people could hear a low, melan- 
choly whine, far up among the loftier branches. 
But whatever it was could not he seen, owing 
to the foliage. 

4 ‘ What on earth can it be ? ’ 1 whispered Sona, 
whose very lips were now white. “That is not 
Gillis.” 

Paul, peering closely, regretted that he had 
left his revolver at home. He had a stout pock- 
et clasp-knife of the hunting order. This he 
furtively opened with his free hand, unknown 
to Sona, who was grasping his other arm. 

“Let us wait here a minute/ ’ said he, in a low 
voice. 4 4 Perhaps the thing will discover itself. ’ ’ 

“Oh, Paul, I wish we had not come!” Sona 
was losing her self-command rapidly. “Let us 
run back to our horses.” 

“We cannot We would make mis-steps and 
get bogged up in the mire. Besides, if it is some 
animal, it might follow when it saw that we 
were afraid. Listen ! ’ ’ 


128 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Something else was descending the limbs of 
the great oak. It appeared to be smaller than 
the first object, and it whined plaintively as it 
clambered down backward. Paul now laughed 
heartily. 

“How can you, Paul?” said Sona, who felt 
much more like crying. “We may both be killed 
right here. ’ ’ 

“Oh, no! It is only a bear and cub, Sona. 
You know, our bears about here will run every 
time. I saw you riding after the one the dogs 
were chasing through the saw-grass back of 
your lower cotton-field.” 

“That was in broad day, and I was on my 
pony; and papa and a lot more were after it, 
too. I don’t feel safe here one bit. They say a 
hear with a cub will fight.” 

“She will have to fight me before she reaches 
you. There, now, is she not funny?” 

“I don’t think it funny at all. I wish we were 
at home.” And Sona clung to Paul closer than 
ever. “Why does not Gillis come?” 

The old bear came out from behind the tree, 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


129 


and, thrusting the cnb aside, cautiously peered 
at the young people, with queer and awkward 
cranings of the neck. Step by step she slowly 
advanced, until their antics lost their ludicrous- 
ness to Paul in the possible meaning of her sin- 
gular approaches. 

Now and then the cub would leap clumsily up 
on the mother, only to be thrust aside again. 
All the time the old one was gradually drawing 
nearer, but whether out of mere curiosity or 
from a more unfriendly purpose was not fully 
apparent. 

Paul compressed his lips resolutely, as he 
gently, yet firmly, placed Sona behind him, 
where she stood trembling, and evidently fear- 
ing the worst. 

The gloom was deepening rapidly. In the 
swamp twilight already seemed to reign. The 
time was past for the appearance of the con- 
vict, according to his owm appointment. Paul 
would have seized Sona and retreated, but for 
a fear that such a manoeuvre might precipitate 
an attack. 


130 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Although, as he had said, there was usually 
little danger apprehended from the common 
black hear of that coast under ordinary circum- 
stances, the actions of this one, taking into con- 
sideration the fact of her having a cub along, 
rendered him uncertain what to expect. 

At last the bear rose to its hind feet, heat the 
air with its paws and uttered a loud, warning 
growl. Sona was greatly terrified. 

“She’ll rush on us next,” thought Paul, 
though he only gripped his knife the tighter as 
he spoke cheeringly to Sona. 

But Paul was mistaken as to the cause of this 
last manifestation of anger. A limb cracked 
some distance away. Looking in the direction 
from whence the sound came, Paul saw dimly a 
tall man approaching rapidly. He was leaping 
from log to tussock until he reached the firm 
ground about the great oak. Then the hear 
whirled and scuttled off into the swamp. The 
man quickly leveled a weapon and two shots 
rang out in quick succession. 

Bruin snarled, and ran faster than ever. A 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


131 


cry from the wounded cub halted the mother, 
and she turned and rushed at her new adver- 
sary, who, planting his gun fairly against the 
bear’s side, continued his deadly fusillade. 

Mother and cub soon fell, mortally wounded. 
When Paul came up the man was finishing them 
with a big machete, or cane-knife, which he 
carried. 

“I am glad you came,” began the boy. “We 
had about given you up. If I— ” 

Paul stopped as the stranger, turning, raised 
his figure to its full height, glaring down upon 
the lad with eyes that glowed like coals in the 
deepening twilight. This was not the convict. 
The man before him was black. His clothing 
was a mere mass of shreds and patches. His 
size was almost gigantic, and as the astonished 
youth paused in his speech, he seized Paul by 
the neck with a hand that gripped like a vise. 

“ Ya— ya— y-a-h ! Got um fast— got um fast! 
Ja-ja got boy— got gal! Ya— ya— ya— ya— 
y-a-h!” 

The screech of laughter with which the fellow 


132 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


prefaced and concluded liis rapidly spoken 
words scared Paul almost as much as the bear 
had terrified Sona. The tones were thick and 
guttural, and the enunciation so swift and jerky 
that only one accustomed to the peculiarities of 
the coast- African jargon could have understood 
what the man said. 

“That you, Ja-ja? I did not know you were 
about. Glad you got the bear, though. He 
might have caused us trouble. I left my gun at 
home. ’ ’ 

Paul spoke nervously. He had never met old 
Ja-ja in just this way before, though he was well 
aware of his condition. Ja-ja was the neighbor- 
hood wild-man. For years he had been suffered 
to make his home in the swamps, and to rob 
hen-roosts and kitchens in a small way. Ja-ja 
had been a slave of the Legares. 

Out of good nature and indulgent commiser- 
ation, the easy-going sea-islanders had endured 
him for years, some deeming him dangerous, 
and others harmless in his loss of reason. 

Clothing would be left for him at sundry 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


133 


places in the swamp. In winter time food was 
also chrried where it was thought he might get 
it. Sona had once rescued him from the hounds 
during a big deer-drive. He had the strength 
of a giant and the shyness of a fox as a rule. 

But now his manner was fierce and menacing. 
Some one had given him an old army breech- 
loader, and the excitement caused by the slaugh- 
ter of the bears might be the cause of his pres- 
ent behavior towards Paul. 

At any rate, the pressure of his grasp grew 
unendurable. Paul tried to release himself, but 
the only effect was to make Ja-ja tighten his 
grasp and smile more sardonically than ever. 

“Let go, Ja-ja !” cried Paul. “Let go, I 
say !” 

1 1 Got um fast ! Ya — ya — y-a-h ! ’ Got um fast ! 
Got— white— boy— fast ! Ya— ya— y-a-h !” 

Paul, though more alarmed than ever, was a 
boy of too much nerve to submit to such rough 
handling unresentingly. He drew back the hand 
that held the jack-knife, but Ja-ja seized it quick 
as lightning 


134 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


A cruel wrench, that wrung from Paul a 
groan of pain, followed, then the knife dropped. 
The half-witted negro’s eyes gleamed wildly. 
But before another move was made Sona had 
dung herself between the two. Bearing her 
light weight upon the negro’s arm, she looked 
him reproachfully in the eye. 


CHAPTER XI. 


BACK HOME — EHRICH SENDS A NOTE — SIDNEY 
TRIES A PLAN — HOW IT WORKED. 

Ja-ja, on his part, suddenly released his grasp 
of Paul, while an expression of pleased surprise 
shot athwart his dark, savage features, that 
even the growing darkness did not entirely con- 
ceal. 

1 ‘ Good gal ! Gub J a-ja grub. Gub Ja-ja coat. 
Gub Ja-ja shu’t. Ya— ya— y-a-h!” 

He patted Sona’s head and seemed to go at 
one emotional bound from anger to childish 
pleasure at sight of the girl, whom he evidently 
recognized as one of his favorites and bene- 
factors. 

“Paul is my cousin, Ja-ja,’ ’ said Sona. “You 
must be good to him. He is a Roanoak.” 


136 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“Ro-nuk strike Ja-ja.” The huge negro 
scowled. “Ja-ja go ’long, tend own hizness. 
Ro-nuk come ’long— whack! whack! Ja-ja 
catch um. Ja-ja lick nm. Lick white boy— 
white boy, Ro-nuk. ’ ’ 

His teeth clicked fiercely, and he looked as if 
he would like to vent his spleen again upon Paul. 
But Sona resolutely kept between the two, and 
finally said : 

“We must he going. We came to see some 
one else, hut he did not come. Thank you for 
killing the bears, Ja-ja. I have a coat for you 
at home, you know. ’ ’ 

While speaking she drew Paul away, still 
keeping herself between him and Ja-ja. 

The wild man’s form grew indistinct as he 
stood motionless, watching them depart. 

Back through the treacherous bog and be- 
neath the moss-hung branches of gum and cy- 
press they picked their way. Even Paul heaved 
a sigh of relief as they finally mounted their 
ponies again. 

“Well, Sona,” said he, “I hardly expected to 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


137 


be indebted to you for such an escape. If you 
had not been there, Ja-ja would have crushed 
me into a mummy. I felt it in the touch of his 
very finger tips. He is fearfully strong.’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I am glad I was there then. But those bears 
nearly scared the life out of me. What do you 
suppose made Ja-ja so angry with you, Paul?” 

“I think father once used his riding- whip on 
him when Ja-ja was troublesome about some- 
thing. Father met him somewhere in the 
swamps. He had sense enough to take me for 
a Roanoak, and to exercise his resentment ac- 
cordingly— Indian fashion, as it were.” 

‘ ‘ What is that f 9 9 asked Sona suddenly. 

Some one was crashing through the swamp 
at a great rate toward them, as they were 
threading the narrow trail that led to the open 
pine woods. 

Paul was about to suggest a more rapid re- 
treat, when Ja-ja’s huge form burst into the 
path directly before them. His rifle was slung, 
and he held out his hand, with something in it, 
toward the two. 


138 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


The lad would have taken the object; but Ja- 
ja drew back, shaking his head angrily. 

4 ‘Gal take um. Ja-ja fergit it. Gal take um. 
Ja-ja go.” 

Then, placing a crumpled scrap of paper in 
Sona’s hand, he wheeled and disappeared in the 
tangle of undergrowth bordering the path, and 
was seen no more. 

The young cousins, under a mutual sense of 
apprehension, rode on at a gallop, nor paused 
until the dense wall of the swamp was left be- 
hind, and they entered the open, aisle-like 
spaces of the pines, where the sunset still radi- 
ated and the cherry sky looked down between 
the wide spaced tree-tops. 

“What was it Ja-ja gave you?” asked Paul, 
while Sona smoothed out a piece of paper. i i Is 
it another note?” 

“Listen,” said Sona, holding the paper close 
to her eyes. 

“ ‘I am not able to come as I wrote that I 
would. Ja-ja will he at the big oak every night 
till Miss Sona comes. He will have nothing to 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


139 


do with meeting any one only Miss Sona. They 
are after me hard. I must get away for a few 
days. But if you still wish to hear what an in- 
jured man has to say for himself, I will be at 
the big oak two nights next new moon. Perhaps 
you can be there then. Old Ehrich has set the 
officers on me, I am sure. He wants me away. 
I know it. Don’t forget. Big oak— sundown— 
I felt that he would hardly do to trust, and now 
two nights— next new moon.’ 

“Poor fellow!” remarked Sona. “I am glad 
he has been able to get on the good side of Ja-ja. 
Even a wild man is better than no friends at 
all.” 

“Do you really think he is being pursued by 
officers ? ’ ’ 

“I begin to think that brother Edgar is not 
far from right in his idea of the elder Ehrich, 
at least. How very cruel ! ’ ’ 

“I hardly think Jake knows of his father’s 
doings. ’ ’ 

“No ; I will not lose faith in Jacob. But what 
shall we say to father and the rest ? ’ ’ 


140 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Taul reflected a moment. 

“Let us say that we strayed into the swamp, 
and had a time with the bears and Ja-ja. We 
need not mention anything about Grillis. ’ ’ 

When they rode up to the front piazza of the 
Legare mansion, Mr. Legare was pacing up and 
down uneasily. He had worried himself into a 
state of mild irritability. 

‘ 1 This is nice work ! ’ ’ he exclaimed, as the two 
dismounted and a negro boy took the ponies 
around to the horse lot. 1 1 Where on earth have 
you two been? Edgar is just on the point of 
sending over to Roanoak Hall to see if you have 
turned up there. I’ve a notion to send you to 
bed supperless, both of you! Do you hear? 
Such doings are disgraceful !’ ’ 

“Now, papa!” And Sona pulled Mr. Le- 
gare ’s bald head to a level with her own, despite 
his grumblings, and imprinted a warm kiss on 
either cheek. “We got into Towie Swamp, and 
—and we met a bear.” 


‘ 4 Bless us all ! A bear ? ’ 9 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


141 


Mr. Legare appeared to be dazed with amaze- 
ment. 

“Two of ’em, Uncle Dick,” corrected Paul. 

“Two of them!” echoed Uncle Dick, help- 
lessly. “ Well— wh-what next? Did the bears 
show you the way home ?” • 

“Of course not, papa. But old Ja-Ja, he un- 
expectedly made his appearance and— ” 

“Look here, child!” interrupted Uncle Dick, 
wrathfully. ‘ 1 Suppose you two draw off a little. 
Do you regard your father as an idiot?” 

“Indeed, papa, we are telling you the truth. 
We are not making game— are we, Paul?” 

“Why, no! You see, Uncle Dick, there are 
some bears in Towie. Well, an old one, with her 
cub, came along and showed fight. I had only my 
pocket-knife. Then up comes Ja-ja, with that 
old gun of his, and pumps them full of lead. 
Ja-ja was then on the point of going for me, but 
Sona persuaded him out of the notion. He likes 
Sona, and he doesn’t like me.” 

Uncle Dick fumed a little more, but his pre- 
vailing good nature asserted itself, and he dis- 


142 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


missed the two with a gentle reprimand and a 
general admonition as to the dangers of the 
swamps and of remaining away too long. 

When Edgar heard an account of the adven- 
ture, he smiled knowingly and said nothing. 
Later on, though, he took occasion to say to 
Paul, when the two were alone : 

“You and Sona must have had some special 
errand to take you into the heart of Towie 
Swamp. What was it, anyhow ?” 

Paul *s replies to this form of questioning were 
so confusing and evasive that Legare turned 
away, uttering a growl of contempt. 

“You are a simpleton, Paul, for thinking me 
such a one as to swallow a put-up dose like that ! 
I have no wish to pry into your and Sona’s 
secrets. You are but children, as it is, but do not 
think that I am so easily deceived. ’ 7 

Legare turned away so quickly that Paul’s 
reply died upon his lips. After all, the boy could 
have said but little to the purpose without giv- 
ing himself away. This he would not do, for, 
like Sona, he had now come to feel that it would 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


143 


savor of treachery to reveal anything about Gil- 
lis to one so determined to effect the convict’s 
recapture as Legare had shown himself to be. 

Meanwhile, over at Bugle Point, Mr. Ehrich 
had passed a number of anxious hours. For all 
that he knew, Gillis might have fulfilled his 
threat of going to Roanoak Hall and telling 
what he knew. 

Later on, when Jake told his father what Sona 
had related to him in the woods, the elder 
Ehrich felt more anxious than ever. Under the 
stimulus of this feeling he wrote a note to the 
constable of the district, and dispatched it by 
Mose, a trusty negro, on horseback. 

This was on the same afternoon that Paul and 
Sona went into Towie Swamp, but several hours 
earlier. Mose rode away briskly and fared very 
well, until he crossed a little log bridge over 
Pokatono Creek. The place was isolated and 
not far from Towie Swamp, where the creek 
had its rise. The dusky messenger was jogging 
along at a snail’s pace on a plantation mule, 
singing: 


144 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“Some folks say de niggers won’t steal, 

But I kotch seven in my co ’n fiel \ 

Run, nigger, run— patterol git yo\ 

Run, nigger, run— hit’s almost day. 

Gi’ me a pone an’ a good ham bone — 

“Lawd ha’ mussy! Who dat cum dar?” A 
large man, in dingy convict garb, swung himself 
down from an overhanging limb and seized the 
bridle. The negro’s teeth chattered. 

‘ 1 Got anything to eat about you ? ’ ’ demanded 
the man. ‘ ‘ Shuck it out— tobacco and all. Live- 
ly, now!” 

“Please, marse, I en’t nuttin’ cep’n dish yere 
twist er home-made. An’ den— Laws! En’t 
you one ere de convicts f’om down on Pocata- 
ligo?” 

The man, with a scowl of vexation at the 
words and the messenger’s dilatory movements, 
pounced on him like a hawk on a chicken. Mose 
dropped on his knees and began praying. 

Gillis, for it was he, went through the negro’s 
clothes the while. From an old haversack he ex- 
tracted some bacon and cornbread, stolen, prob- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


145 


ably, from the Ehrich kitchen. In Mose’s hat 
the convict found Ehrich ’s note. 

“What’s this!” asked Gillis. 

Then his eye grew eager as he recognized the 
handwriting, with which he had become familiar 
in Charleston years back, before Ehrich took to 
being a country gentleman. 

He ruthlessly tore open the envelope, regard- 
less of Mose’s protests, and his brow darkened 
as he read. 

“So,” muttered the miserable convict. “I 
did right not to trust the man, who, more than 
any one else, was the cause of my going to the 
pen. He is trying to put the officers on my 
track. See here, you rascal ! ’ 9 

Gillis seized Mose roughly. 

He was off the mule and on his knees, but Gil- 
lis held him in a relentless grasp. The convict ’s 
eyes blazed with an expression that made the 
negro shudder and convulsed the other’s face. 
Then it died away, and he flung poor Mose from 
him. 

“After all,” he said, “you are only the blind 


146 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


instrument. Get up, you dog! Go back and 
tell Mr. Sidney Ehrich that if ever I get my 
hands on him, as I just had them on you, he will 
never live to tell. of it!” 

Then Gillis tore the note into minute frag- 
ments, stamped them into the mud, snatched up 
the haversack of eatables and plunged out of 
sight behind the thick fringe of trees and bushes 
that here lined the road on both sides. 

Later on, when Gillis encountered old Ja-ja, 
whom he had met before in his forest wander- 
ings, he persuaded the wild man to be the bearer 
of a message to Sona and Paul, explaining why 
he no longer dared to linger in the neighbor- 
hood, now that Ehrich was trying to put the 
officers on his track. 

In a few days, when the first vigor of renewed 
search should relax, it might be safe for him to 
venture back in order to keep his second ap- 
pointment. 

In the meantime Mose, scrambling on his 
mule, rode pell-mell back to Ehrich himself, with 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


147 


an exaggerated tale regarding the particulars 
of his hold-up. 

This account so worked on Mr. Ehrich ’s fears 
that Sidney, notwithstanding the vigorous re- 
buff to which he had been subjected on the night 
of the convict’s discovery by Jake, ventured to 
question his father again. 

The mean, coarse nature of the deformed boy 
found something so congenial in certain kindred 
attributes in his parent, that the natural selfish- 
ness of his heart was vaguely disturbed. He 
missed his father’s brusque cordiality, and even 
his rough methods of reproof. 

* 1 1 say, dad, what ’s the matter with you, any- 
way?” began the lad, one day, as Mr. Ehrich 
sat glumly in his office at the works, with numer- 
ous neglected bills and letters on his desk. 
6 ‘ Have you got a hit back from any one ? ’ ’ 

Mr. Ehrich turned a heavy eye and a rather 
gray-looking face upon his pert son; then he 
rose, and, without a word, ejected Sidney junior 
with scant ceremony. 

“Now, you get out!” said he, sternly. “If I 


148 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


catch yon nosing aronnd here again to-day I 
will have you ducked in the hay ! ’ ’ 

Sidney promptly made himself scarce. 

4 4 Look here, Jake,” he said, meeting his 
brother out in the yard of the works, ‘ ‘ dinged if 
I don’t believe dad is going crazy! What’s 
gone wrong!” 

“Oh, nothing much,” replied Jacob evasively, 
for he had been ordered by his father to say 
nothing to any one concerning the affair with 
the convict. “You mind your own business, 
and then you won ’t be so suspicious of what con- 
cerns your elders.” 

“Rats!” sneered Sid, cutting the word sharp- 
ly. “I ain’t no fool. You and father have got 
something up. I just know you are setting dad 
against me, and he always liked me best before. 
You can keep mum if you want to, but just you 
watch out. I’ll find out what’s up— see if I 
don’t.” 

“Now see here, Sid. Don’t be a ninny and 
make a nuisance of yourself. I’m not setting 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


149 


father against yon or any one. Why don’t yon 
ask him what the matter is?” 

“I did,” answered Sid, glumly. 

4 ‘Well, what did he say?” 

“He said nix. He fired me out of the office. 
I think it is real mean. I like dad better than 
yon do, with all your fine airs, and now he makes 
up to yon, and gives me the go by.” 

“It will blow over. Don’t you fret. If you 
really like father, the best way for you to show 
it will be to say nothing, and do whatever you 
see that he would wish you to do.” 

Then Jacob walked to the office door and 
went in, closing it carefully behind him and leav- 
ing Sid staring sullenly, being quite unconvinced 
by Jacob’s rather tritely correct logic. 

Presently Sid stole to the door and softly tried 
the knob. As the office door opened into a short 
passage and was unconnected with the counting- 
room by this entrance, he was unobserved. 

“It’s locked,” he said to himself; and a lump 
rose in his throat at the idea. ‘ ‘ Dad locks him- 
self in there with Jake, and he locks me out. It’s 


150 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


tough on me, it is so! It’s downright mean in 
both of them, especially dad.” 

Usually Sid was the reverse of sentimental, 
and was loud in his ridicule of Jake’s tendencies 
in that direction. But now he found out all at 
once how fond he really was of his father by 
being suddenly shut out, as it were, where the 
derided Jake was admitted. 

The tears he shed were mingled with resent- 
ment. To Sid, when baffled, the desire to get 
even was proportioned by his sense of depriva- 
tion. 

* ‘ They needn ’t think they can out-do me, 9 9 he 
thought, as he began to explore the surround- 
ings of the office. “I’ll find out what they are 
up to in spite of them— you bet I will !” 

He brought in an empty ash barrel that was 
lying at the end of the passage, inverted it and 
climbed up stealthily. From his position, he 
could now look through the half-open transom 
over the door, and what suited him better still, 
overhear every word uttered by his father and 
Jacob. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


151 


“The fellow is undoubtedly very desperate,” 
Mr. Ehrich was saying, as he leaned his head 
on his hand, at the desk. “Now that he has 
found out what I was sending that note to Simp- 
son for, he may attempt my life. He may be 
lying in wait for me anywhere.” 

“Why should you try to have him recaptur- 
ed?” asked Jacob. 

1 ‘ Because he will not trust me. He ran from 
us the other night. Next we heard he had gone 
to the Roanoaks. For all we know, he may have 
told them any number of lies about us. People 
here seem to like to believe things against me. 
I notice more offish looks than ever within the 
last few days.” 

“As long as we have really done no wrong, 
we can afford to put up with cross looks now 
and then, unpleasant as it may be. ’ ’ 

Jacob’s tone was sad, nevertheless, for he was 
thinking of Paul and Sona, and his baffled 
wishes regarding Editor Legare. 

“I tell you we cannot afford to take any risks. 
The only safety for us now is to have that fellow 


152 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


shut up again. No one about the penitentiary 
will believe him. Around here, it is different. 
These stuck-up nabobs resent our coming among 
them from a pawn-shop in town. They can’t 
make money themselves, yet they affect to de- 
spise those who can. Anything they can get 
hold of that may be twisted to our discredit, they 
will grab at quicker than a hungry mule will eat 
corn. ’ ’ 

“ Still, father, as long as we have really done 
nothing that is discreditable, why need we care ? 
Pawnbroking and selling second-hand goods 
may seem discreditable to them, but they need 
not seem so to us, as long as we acted honestly.” 

Though Jacob talked encouragingly enough, 
he was in reality wounding his own nature out 
of sympathy for his father. The boy had often 
wished that the Ehrichs were not so different 
from their neighbors; yet now he felt a compas- 
sion for his parent’s fears, that was mingled 
with a fear of his own, that the past was not so 
morally clear as might be wished, where his 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


153 


father was concerned ; else, why had Gillis talked 
in such a horribly suggestive way? 

Yet, for Jacob to plainly ask his father 
whether Gillis inferred a dishonorable truth or 
was merely lying, seemed to the sensitive youth 
a sort of filial breach of trust. Mr. Ehrich was 
his father, first of all. If anything lay hidden 
from him, let it remain hidden, unless the reveal- 
ing of it were necessary to his father’s safety. 

‘ ‘ Of course we acted honestly, ’ ’ blustered Mr. 
Ehrich, with undue heat. 4 ‘Who says we 
didn’t?” 

“Gillis seemed to infer that some one had done 
things which it would be well for him to say 
nothing about— well for you, I mean.” 

Jacob regretted this speech as soon as it was 
uttered. Mr. Ehrich ’s brow grew black, and his 
short, stiff hair seemed to bristle with anger. 

“Hang it all!” he stormed. “I sent for you 
to obey me, and say nothing ; and you only harp 
on the lies of a convicted scoundrel. Here ! Get 
out! I’ve had enough of your sentimental re- 
marks. If Sidney were two or three years older, 


154 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


I wouldn’t give him for a dozen of you; and 
that is a fact!” 

While speaking, Mr. Ehrich rose and flung 
open the office door, thereby pushing over Sid 
and the barrel. While Mr. Ehrich stared at 
this discovery, Sid scrambled up and rushed into 
his astonished father’s arms. 

1 1 Never mind, if I ain’t old enough, dad,” he 
cried. “ Neither you nor Jakey can’t fool me. 
Take me in, dad. I’ll be worth more to you 
than Jake. If that sneak you’re talking about 
and are so scared of, comes, I’ll face him— see 
if I don’t! I ’ll set the dogs on him. He shan’t 
worry you no more, dad. Nor you won’t treat 
me the way you have been doing— will you, 
dad?” 

Mr. Ehrich ’s first impulse, to give Sid a 
thrashing for his eavesdropping proclivities, 
died away in a kindred feeling of pride in the 
boy’s astuteness, and of gratitude at this show 
of affection. After all, the two were congenial 
spirits. 

Jacob felt himself at once barred out. Had 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


155 


he been spying instead of Sid, the thrashing 
wonld have been given, notwithstanding his 
seventeen years. Bnt coarse, crafty,, over-wise 
Sid could do anything, and then finally triumph. 

The older son picked' up his hat and walked 
out of the office, as the habitual melancholy of 
his handsome face deepened into a suggestion of 
pain and tears, that just then looked only 
womanish to the father, fresh with the pride of 
his second son. 

“Keep your silly tongue still— do you mind?” 
he called after Jacob, as the latter passed 
through the passage. 

Jacob heard the door shut, and he went on 
across the marshes to the house, feeling more 
depressed than ever. Any preference, or friend- 
ship, or ambition that had its fulfillment depend- 
ent on his relations with Paul, Sona or even 
Edgar Legare, might as well be given up. 

He ordered his pony saddled, and presently 
rode away through the woods, more to kill time 
and fight down his rebellious mutterings of spirit 
than anything else. 


156 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


An hour’s ride brought him in the neighbor- 
hood of a long, swamp-like hummock called 
Ashepoo Bend, where the echoing sound of run- 
ning hounds reminded him that it was the day 
set for a general deer drive by the neighboring 
planters. The hunting season had not long 
opened. 

“They carefully overlooked mentioning the 
matter to any of us,” thought he, rather bitter- 
ly, “though last year we were notified every 
time the Edisto hummocks were hunted over. 
That only adds to the feeling that I have that 
we are purposely neglected now. ’ 9 

Jacob was at the lower end of the swamp. As 
the noise of the pack merrily grew in his ears, 
his sadness gave way to a thrill of excitement. 
He unslung the shotgun which the hostler had 
hung to his saddle as a matter of course, and 
stationed himself at what appeared to be a fa- 
vorable stand. 

“If a deer comes this way, I will take a shot, 
anyhow,” he thought. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


157 


The ‘ 1 yow-yow-y owing’ ’ of the hounds pres- 
ently gave way to a smart chorus of barks that 
denoted the baying of some object. 

“It cannot be* a deer,” he thought. “They 
seem to have treed something. Wonder what it 
can be?” 


CHAPTER XII. 


A QUEER HUNT — SON A REFUSES TO EXPLAIN. 

Where Jacob had stationed himself was at the 
opposite end of the swamp from where the 
hounds had been put in. The hunters, divided 
on either side, had ridden along in accompani- 
ment of the sound of the dogs, placing them- 
selves at convenient stands from time to time, 
and thus traversing the boundary of the swamp 
lengthwise. 

So it happened that none of them had arrived 
where Jacob was, as all were behind rather than 
before the course of the hounds. When the bay- 
ing had continued for a brief space, sounds of a 
conflict were audible. Jacob, unable to restrain 
his impatience, rode into the hummock from the 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


159 


open pine woods and made his way, where the 
earth was firm enough, toward the sounds of the 
melee. 

As he drew nearer, his excitement increased. 
He urged his pony rather recklessly on, but was 
taken aback presently by hearing a shrill, femi- 
nine call for help suddenly rise above the canine 
uproar. 

At this juncture his horse hogged and refused 
to flounder further in the mire. 

Jacob sprang down and ran forward, with his 
whip in his hand. Thrusting himself through a 
rustling, rattling shield of saw-palmetto, he ar- 
rived in a small space where the undergrowth 
was sparse. 

This was well filled with dogs of high and low 
degree — hounds, curs, beagles and others. They 
were swarming and leaping at no less an object 
than Gillis himself, who was pushing through 
the canine throng, holding before him the in- 
sensible form of a young girl. 

Jacob’s blood surged more fiercely than it 
ever had done before. The girl was Sona. The 


160 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


screams must have been Sona’s. That she 
should be handled thus by the hunted convict 
was intolerable. 

“Put her down!” he cried, raising his whip 
as he advanced. 

To his surprise, Gillis made for him at once. 
He pushed Sona roughly into J acob ’s arms, and, 
before the boy could say a word, exclaimed : 

“There! I’m rid of her! Lucky for her I 
came in time. Bad for me, though.” 

He was off, striking right and left with a 
stout stick at the dogs, who now cowered beneath 
the vigor of his blows. 

“Hold on!” cried Jacob, now more perplexed 
than enraged. ‘ ‘ What are you doing here ? ’ ’ 

But Gillis disappeared among the bushes, fol- 
lowed by all the dogs, except two or three that 
had been knocked over by the convict’s stick. 
Jacob stoQd holding his precious burden, and 
wondering how it all had come about, when Sona 
began to show symptoms of reviving. At the 
same time several hunters, on foot and on horse- 
back, appeared hurriedly through the tangle of 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


161 


brake and brier that obscured the view on every 
side beneath the taller forest trees. 

Among these were Paul Roanoak, Edgar 
Legare and Uncle Ham. The latter had been 
following the dogs on foot, and had just come 
up. 

Jacob’s face flushed, although he knew that 
his own actions were blameless. But to be 
caught holding Sona, just recovering from a 
swoon, by relatives who were disposed to think 
ill enough of him as it was, could not but dis- 
compose him somewhat. 

The look of concern on Paul’s face changed 
to wonder, then relief, and finally settled into 
a cautious reserve. Legare dismounted and 
came forward, his face set with anger. 

“So,” said he, “it was you, then, that were 
the cause of my sister’s fright! Give her to 
me!” 

But Sona drew away from them both, and 
looked around in puzzled wonder, that gave way 
to confusion as she saw so many men gazing 


162 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


curiously at the scene of which she was the 
centre. 

“What— why— where is the wildcat— and— 
the man?” she faltered, hesitatingly. 

“Here are men enough, Sona,” said her 
brother. “Did that fellow insult you?” 

Jacob could not stand that. He drew back 
haughtily. 

“I am not so much in the habit lately of giv- 
ing as of receiving insults,” retorted he, coldly. 
‘ 1 Miss Sona knows that I would die rather than 
be the cause of anything unpleasant happening 
to her.” 

“Well, you must know that your company has 
not been sought after of late. But it is intolera- 
ble to find you annoying my sister in this way. ’ ’ 

“Hi-yo!” exclaimed Uncle Ham, who had 
been rummaging among the bushes at a little 
distance. “Dat ar de biggest warmint I seed 
in many a day, en’t hit?” 

The old fellow was dragging a large wildcat 
that he had found. The creature’s head was 
smashed in, as if by a blow from some heavy 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


163 


instrument. There was no sign of dog-bites, 
however. 

“Who could have killed this, I wonder ?” 
asked Paul. 

“Now I remember,” said Sona, submitting to 
Edgar ’s summons, and suffering herself to be 
led away from Jacob, who stood somewnat to 
himself. “You will find my pony somewhere in 
that palmetto clump, I think. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Go on. What is it you remember ? 9 ’ 

“Don’t be cross, Brother Ed. I couldn’t help 
being nearest the dogs as they came by. The 
pony wouldn’t go into the bog, so I ran in on 
foot.” 

“Very imprudent for a girl to do.” This 
from Edgar. 

4 4 What is the use of a girl hunting if she can 
not be in at the death? The dogs were baying 
something, so I made my way in, and there was 
that wildcat in the fork of a sweet bay.” 

“Dat’s old Bounce’s doin’s,” ejaculated Ham, 
indignantly. “I lay I w’ar dat hound out yit 
fo’ leavin’ a hot trail fo’ varmint an’ sech like.” 


164 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“When the wildcat saw me it jumped. I 
don’t know whether it meant to spring at me or 
the dogs. But I screamed, all the same. Then 
some one ran in, and I think must have killed the 
cat. I am ashamed to say I must have fainted. 
See where its claws tore my dress. That is all I 
know. ’ ’ 

“You say some one ran in and killed the 
wildcat ? ’ ’ 

“Yes. The dogs must have followed him 
after that, as the cat doesn’t seem to show signs 
of being bitten.” 

Jacob was here conscious that eyes were being 
turned towards him in a more respectful, not to 
say relenting way. 

“It was not I,” said he. “I cannot lay claim 
to that glory. I never saw the wildcat alive.” 

Sona looked puzzle'd. She pondered a mo- 
ment. Then, as her brow cleared, she looked at 
Jacob. 

Some undefinable expression in her face ap- 
peared to appeal to him to reveal nothing. Per- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


165 


liaps she was sorry for Gillis, if she had recog- 
nized him upon his first coming to her rescue. 

Jacob felt sorry for the poor man himself, 
more especially since he became aware of the 
efforts that had been made to secure his recap- 
ture. Edgar began to be impatient. 

1 4 What a mystery about nothing !” he ex- 
claimed. 4 4 Did you recognize the fellow who 
killed the wildcat, and, as I suppose, took charge 
of you!” 

4 4 1— I hardly know. Perhaps— You see, it 
was all so hurried. ’ 9 

“Sona, you are intentionally keeping some- 
thing from us. There are things to be explained 
here, as you must well know.” 

Sona still looked undecided, but the next ut- 
terance of Edgar ’s made her rebellious. 

4 4 Shall I have to require an explanation from 
this person here ! ’ ’ alluding to J acob. 

4 1 Edgar, you are too provoking! I shall ex- 
plain nothing more. Jacob can say what he 
thinks best; only, he was not here when I 
fainted. And 1 feel sure that Jacob has done 


166 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


no harm whatever to me or any one else. There, 
now!” 

And Sona walked away in search of her pony 
in a very dignified manner. 

Mr. Legare turned to Jacob. 

“Do you know what happened here that my 
sister declines to explain?” he demanded. 

The memory of Edgar Legare ’s haughty man- 
ner was too strong in Jacob to frame his reply 
in a way that might soften wrath. 

“Whether I know or not, you may be sure 
that as long as Miss Sona remains silent, you 
will get nothing out of me. Good-day, gentle- 
men. I should not have been here hut for hear- 
ing the dogs as I was passing.” 

With bitterness at heart, Jacob was moving 
back towards his own horse, when, as he passed 
Paul, the latter said, in a low voice : 

“I am sorry, Jacob, that there must be cool- 
ness between us. But it cannot be helped, I fear. 
I don’t think you are to blame, though.” 

“What am I not to blame for?” said Jacob, 
quickly. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


167 


Just then back came the dogs in a confused 
mass, as if they had either been driven back, or 
had lost trail of what they were after. 

Paul said something, but the clamor around 
drowned his words. Jacob went on, mounted 
his horse and rode away at a breakneck pace. 

He might have gone a mile, though he was 
hardly conscious of the direction or duration of 
his course, when a man sprang out of a clump 
of palmetto bordering the roadside, and grasped 
his bridle-rein. 

“Let go there !” commanded Jacob, as his 
pony nearly fell back on his haunches under the 
suddenness of the jerk at the bits. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


JACOB HEARS A TALE — MR. EHRICH OWNS UP— AT 
THE OLD SHELL MOUND. 

It was Rad Gillis. Before Jacob could say 
more, the convict placed his hand on the young 
fellow’s shoulder. 

“Let me talk, Jake,” said he. “I’m close 
pushed now, but I want you to let it be known 
that I was not harming the girl. I killed that 
wildcat. The dogs had bayed it, and as she came 
up it sprang at her, just as I, attracted by the 
noise, happened along. You see, I thought the 
hounds might have a deer, and I need food. It 
was a risky move, for I knew the hunters were 
not far away.” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


169 


“I know. Miss Sona remembered enough to 
clear you of any blame. Indeed, only she and 
I know it was you. I feel certain she won’t 
tell who you were, unless she sees a way for the 
news to do you good, and I am sure you have 
nothing to fear from me.” 

“Is that so, Jake?” 

Gillis eyed the youth closely. 

“I know why you are suspicious, Bad. But, 
really, I had nothing to do with what father or 
any of them may have done about trying to have 
you recaptured. Indeed, I think such work ut- 
terly mean, although the law may say it is right. 
You acted the part of a brave and true man to- 
day, Rad, and I feel sure that Mis? Sona realizes 
it as well as 1 . ’ 9 

The hunted man grasped Jacob by the arm, 
and looked piercingly into the boy ’s eyes. Then 
he heaved a sigh of evident relief. 

“Jake, I believe you. The other night I should 
have waited for you at the wharf, had it not been 
for that boat. When I saw it, I remembered 


170 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


how tricky your father was, and I bolted with- 
out taking second thought.’ ’ 

4 ‘Well, what can I do for you! If things are 
as you intimate that they may be, perhaps you 
are not so much to blame. ,, 

“All I am to blame for is in being too com- 
pliant. Your father and your Uncle Hiram 
know. But it is useless to appeal to them. Did 
I not overhaul the negro bearing your father’s 
note to the constable! I am to be hunted down 
again. They have been hot on my trail ever 
since. But for old Ja-ja, who knows the swamps, 
I would have been taken before now.” 

“What are you going to do next!” 

‘ ‘ Either get a pardon or skip, providing I can 
get money. Say, Jake, I have tried twice to get 
the ear of the Boanoaks in order to blow on Sid- 
ney and Hiram Ehrich, but both times I failed. 
The squire would not listen. The second time 
I was prevented from keeping my appointment 
with Paul. I doubted you all then. But now— 
I don’t know. I hate to bring trouble on you, 
Jake, now that you stood up for me as you did 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


171 


to-day. What do I care for the Roanoaks, any- 
how? Why should I interpose between them 
and Mr. Sidney Ehrich?” 

“What has my father done, Rad?” asked 
Jacob, his heart heating fearfully, though he 
hardly realized why. 

“I cannot tell you here.” Gillis looked ner- 
vously up and down the road. “It is too public 
a place. Here is what I will do, Jacob. First, 
though, you must bring me one hundred dol- 
lars. Can you do that ? y 9 

“I should have to ask father for it. Why do 
you insist on so large an amount?” 

“To enable me to get away. If you tell your 
father what you want it for, he will let you have 
it quick enough. Do not fear. He wants me 
away. Only two courses are open to me, outside 
of giving myself up. Either I must tell all I 
know to Paul, or you must get me away. ’ ’ 

“I will not knowingly do wrong, Rad. You 
must tell me all— all, mind— that you intended 
to tell the Roanoaks. Then I shall decide what 
I had better do. If you have been wronged by 


172 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


my father, I will try to right the wrong. But 
only the greatest necessity will make me feel 
like condoning what is wrong myself. I don’t 
claim to he a saint, Bad, yet I desire to do the 
square thing all round when I can. ’ 9 

“Come into this hummock with me. It is 
risky for me to linger here, but if you must know 
everything before you will decide, why, the 
quicker you know all the better . 9 ’ 

Gillis again seized Jacob’s bridle-rein, and, 
notwithstanding the boy’s faint protest, drew 
the pony aside into a thick bunch of cabbage and 
saw-palmetto, that closed behind them like a 
curtain. 

An hour or more might have elapsed, then 
Jacob emerged on his pony, and rode thought- 
fully towards home. Gillis was not visible. 

That night, after the rest of the family had 
retired, Jacob entered the library where his fa- 
ther was busy over some business correspond- 
ence. The boy sat down, but remained silent. 
His sensitive features were set in an expression 
of sombre resignation, and he stared at the small 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


173 


“ light wood” fire in the grate, as if his thoughts 
were deep in despondency. Finally Mr. Ehrich 
threw down a vexing letter, and uttered an im- 
patient exclamation : 

“Hang ’em! They shall pay the bill, if it 
takes the last cent they have— hello ! That you, 
J ake f Why don ’t you go to bed ! ’ ’ 

“I saw Rad Gillis to-day, father,” said Ja- 
cob, ignoring the parental inquiry. 

‘ ‘ The dickens you did ! ’ ’ Mr. Ehrich, eyeing 
his son, sharply, was struck by the air of min- 
gled sadness and resolution expressed by the 
young man’s face and manner. “Has he been 
captured! Did Simpson have the handcuffs 
on!” 

“No. I don’t know anything about Simpson. 
Gillis is free, so far. I saw him twice, father. ’ ’ 

“Well— did you try to stop him, or tell others 
where he was ! ’ ’ 

“No, I did not. He saved Sona Legare’s life, 
in all probability. That was when I saw him 
first. ’ ’ Jacob then briefly related what had hap- 
pened at Ashepoo Bend. “No one but Miss 


174 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Sona and I know who it was, and we are not 
going to tell. ^ ’ 

‘ ‘ Indeed ! This is a fine way to do. I suppose 
next yon will be believing any put-up tales Gil- 
lis chooses to tell you. You might even want to 
help him expose others with his lies, or even get 
clear away, himself.” 

Notwithstanding his sneering incredulity of 
tone, Mr. Ehrich shrank from meeting squarely 
the grave, clear look of his elder son, that re- 
mained, throughout the interview, fixed on his 
father. 

“When I saw Gillis the second time,” con- 
tinued Jacob, without noticing his father’s re- 
mark, “he told me everything— everything.” 

In spite of his bravado and assurance, Mr. 
Ehrich felt the blood receding from his face. 
So plain a tale as Gillis could tell bore the in- 
trinsic evidence of truth within itself. He saw, 
without a word further, that his son believed 
what he had heard ; and at the same time he felt 
the inefficacy of scoffing or denunciatory denial 
on his own part. The older man— shrewd as he 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


175 


was— remained silent. Even his eyes slowly 
sank. 

«J acob sighed deeply. 

“Gillis says that you hold possession of the 
Bugle Point place wrongfully. You and Uncle 
Hiram bought it at a tax sale during the carpet- 
bag times. The Roanoaks tried to buy it back 
under an old law that allows State granted land 
to be redeemed within a certain time. He said 
that he stole the old Roanoak State grant from 
the court-house and gave it to you and uncle. 
He was able to do this at that time because, 
through a friend who was employed in the rec- 
ord clerk’s office, he had surreptitious access to 
the documents in the county safe.” 

Mr. Ehrich, after a last blaze of wrathful de- 
rision, had gradually collapsed in his chair. His 
son regarded him sadly, and again sighed. 

“ Lastly Gillis says that you and uncle must 
have that old deed in your possession yet. He 
said you feared to destroy it, as that would be 
a felony in the eyes of the law, while for the 
simple theft from the county archives he alone 


176 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


is responsible. Your merely retaining it being— 
if such were exposed— a less legally important 
crime. He said that yon and uncle secured a 
hold over him by threatening to give him up for 
a crime that he had committed for your ben- 
efit.’ ’ 

“That is a lie, Jake. I pledge you my word 
I did not know he was going to take the deed 
until the thing was done. Hiram showed it to 
me. That was the first I knew. So help me gra- 
cious, it’s so, Jake !” 

“Did Uncle Hiram alone put Gillis up to take 
the deed!” 

Mr. Ehrich was silent. Jacob went on: 

“At any rate, you— we all, in fact— have pro- 
fited by what Gillis did. But for that the Koan- 
oaks would have redeemed the place by paying 
you and uncle for all you had done and paid out, 
and the place would have been theirs again. The 
records having been destroyed during the war, 
it is evident that with the disappearance of the 
old original deed, their claim— so far as power 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


177 


to redeem the land lay— was of no value. This 
was all bad enough, father, but it is not all.” 

“Go on— go on!” cried Mr. Ehrich, excitedly. 
“You believe a convict— a fellow in stripes— 
before your own father. Go on! I will not be 
surprised if you fix it up that Hiram and I 
cooked up a forgery to get Bad in the pen. But 
there is a screw loose in his tale there, if he told 
you so. Why did he not tell long ago about our 
having the deed? That would have been a good 
way to get revenge— eh, Jake?” 

“Because, as he says, a knowledge of that fact 
by the authorities would probably have led to 
another trial, or, at least, to an increase of sen- 
tence. He dreaded that; so he forebore. But 
now that he has escaped, and finds you doing all 
that you can to get him back in the pen again, 
he vows that you and uncle shall sutler, if he 
has to stay behind the bars all the balance of 
his days ; that is, if you don *t help him off. ’ ’ 

Mr. Ehrich stared at the fire. In its flicker- 
ing glow he seemed to see flitting pictures of 
toiling convicts and armed guards. He even 


178 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


fancied that certain faces there resembled his 
own and his brother’s. Then he shuddered and 
looked at his son in such a pitifully beseeching 
manner that Jacob felt a shock. 

It seemed an almost unnatural reversal of 
their mutual relations that his usually strong, 
bold, shrewd father should be offering dumb ap- 
peals for forbearance to his own son. 

‘ 1 Father, I think of you first of all, and— and 
mother and the rest.” Jacob’s voice trembled. 
“You have been good to us. Gillis only wants 
to get away. We can help him. In that case I 
have his assurance that he will not try to harm 
any of us any more. I think that it is very good 
of him ; for, though he has done wrong himself, 
he has been greatly wronged in turn. He has 
suffered fearfully. Think how he has suffered, 
father.” 

“ Anything— anything, Jake! If he will go 
off and do nothing against Hiram or me or any 
of us, I will help him all I can. I must include 
Hiram, you know, Jake.” 

“All right. But I have one stipulation to 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


179 


make. If Gillis goes off, and things go right, 
we must give up Bugle Point. ’ ’ * 

‘ ‘Wha-a-t?” 

Mr. Ehrich rose from his chair in great ex- 
citement. 

Then the worried, shame-stricken man sank 
back and hung his head low between his shoul- 
ders. 

Jacob continued: 

“In making things right, father, we must do 
our part. You know— I know that we have no 
right to retain this place, no matter if the Roan- 
oaks cannot show the deed. It is not their fault, 
but ours, that they have it not. If they still wish 
to redeem the place by paying whatever is due, 
we must give them the chance.” 

“It is not necessary. With Gillis out of the 
way, we can hold to what we have, in spite of 
these haughty Roanoaks. Besides, I don’t be- 
lieve that they can pay up, anyhow. ’ ’ 

“They must have every chance to try. We 
must give it up, because it is the only honest, 
honorable way to do. Oh, father, what have we 


180 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


gained by a wrongful course? These planters 
all despise us, notwithstanding our money and 
our place. I had rather live in a log cabin, and 
feel that we had done right, than live here the 
way things are now. ’ ’ 

Mr. Ehrich leaned back and surveyed his son 
as if he had discovered something entirely new 
in him. 

‘Make! Jake!” he said, half sadly, “you 
ought to have been the son of a real gentleman. 
I don’t hardly understand.” 

“I had rather be the son of an honest man. 
I don’t mind work myself, providing I can 
choose the kind of work I am to do.” 

“I don’t know. I have always been used to 
holding on to all I get. But for that we would 
be poor enough to-day. I don ’t think I can give 
up Bugle Point. Think of the works.” 

“You must do it, father. I know mother 
would think as I do if she knew. As for Sid— ” 

“Sid understands me better than you. Sid 
would say as I say. ’ ’ 

“I cannot help that. Gillis will have nothing 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


18.1 


to do with you, only through me. You don’t 
know where to find him. I do. You must agree 
to let the Roanoaks redeem the place if they 
can. The deed can be restored in some way, 
without compromising any one. ’ ’ 

“Suppose I refuse, Jake?” 

“Then I shall at once leave home, and make 
my own living somewhere else. I know you will 
laugh at the idea; but I can work, and I won’t 
steal. ’ ’ 

Despite his coarse fibre, Mr. Ehrich winced at 
this unconscious cut of the moral lash. Jacob 
saw his father’s shame. 

“Forgive me!” he pleaded. “I was thought- 
less or I would not have said that. But, dear 
father, please do what I entreat you to do.” 

“Well, well, I suppose I must. What is it I 
am to do for Gillis ? ’ ’ 

Mr. Ehrich spoke with sudden weariness. 

Jacob drew his chair close and placed his 
hand in that of his father, that remained limp 
and unresponsive. 

Then the boy told what had been agreed on 


182 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


between Gillis and himself. The older man 
briefly assented. 

“He will want the money in goid, I sup- 
pose?” suggested he. 

“Yes. I am to meet him to-morrow; then we 
will arrange a plan of getting him dear away. 
It may not be legally right to do this- but I feel 
sure that,' taking all things into account, it is the 
only way to do and cause the least suffering to 
the innocent, as well as to those who may be to 
blame. ’ ’ 

An open safe stood in the corner. From this 
Mr. Ehrich took out one hundred dollars in 
gold. Then he hesitated, with the coin in his 
hand and his fingers on the combination knob. 
After a minute he added two twenty-dollar gold 
pieces to the chosen amount, and thrust the 
whole into his son’s hands. 

“Gillis will appreciate good measure now,” 
he said. “Tell him I rely on his doing his part 
as well as we shall do ours.” As Jacob was 
leaving the room his father shook his head du- 
biously. “Jake is right, I reckon. He means 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


183 


well; but I don’t think Sid would be for giving 
up everything so easily. I fear it is a bad move. 
Then, what will brother Hiram say ? ’ 9 

Bright and early the next morning Jacob was 
riding across Edisto to the ferry connecting 
with the mainland, where the swamps were 
more extensive and the chance for hiding out 
altogether better. 

The ferry was a barge-like affair, that was 
pulled from shore to shore along a steel wire 
tautly stretched overhead. A mile or two fur- 
ther on, the road entered a long causeway across 
a bit of swamp land. There was firmer ground 
in the interior of the swamp, with sundry trails 
branching out on either hand. Jacob took one 
of these for perhaps half a mile. Then he was 
compelled to leave his pony, owing to the miri- 
ness of the ground. 

He tied the animal in a thick clump of shrub- 
bery, and pushed on afoot, bearing a satchel in 
one hand and a stout walking stick in the other. 

Vast cypresses, and gum, and magnolias made 
almost a twilight gloom around and overhead. 


184 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Black, treacherous-looking sloughs filled the hol- 
lows between the trees, out of which sprang 
noisome and rank weeds and bushes. 

Foul odors permeated the air, and under the 
morning sun, yellow mists arose like steam, sug- 
gestive of ghostliness and malaria. From under 
an occasional tussock, or at the edge of dark 
red pools of stagnant water, crept the water- 
moccasin, rusty-looking, wary and deceptive, 
added .to which the cry of crane or bittern, the 
croaks of frogs and the hum of mosquitoes wore 
upon the ear with a sense of irritation. 

Jacob was glad when he at length arrived at 
a cluster of seven unusually tali cabbage-pal- 
metto trees that towered into prominence from 
the summit of an old shell mound. 

He consulted his watch, then, placing his fin- 
gers to his mouth, imitated the “bob white” 
call of the Southern quail three times in suc- 
cession. 

After a long pause, he was renewing the sig- 
nal, when old Ja-ja, accompanied by Gillis, sud- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


185 


denly appeared from a labyrinth of gallberry 
bushes that flanked the mound on one side. 

The savage-looking old negro squatted down 
at a distance, giving no heed to Jacob other than 
to watch him keenly with a pair of small, beady, 
black eyes. As he squatted, he cut off slices 
from the edible bud of a cabbage-palmetto, eat- 
ing it raw and with zest. 

* ‘ Howdy, Jake ! ’ ’ said Gillis, affably. “I see 
you are still true blue and on time. Have you 
got the needful ? ’ ’ 

‘ 4 There is more money than you stipulated 
for, Rad,” replied Jake, placing the gold in the 
convicts hand that closed on the yellow metal 
greedily. ‘ ‘ I hope you are still in the same no- 
tion you were in yesterday . 9 ’ 

“Yes. Rad Gillis does not go back on his 
word, no matter what others have done. But 
the feel of this gold makes a new man of me. It 
enables me to get away. D’ye hear, Jake? No 
more toil knee deep in mud and water, with a 
guard and a Winchester always handy. No 


186 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


more stripes or paddling now. I hope you 
brought the clothes, J ake . 9 9 

Jacob handed Grillis the satchel, into which 
the hunted man glanced with satisfaction. 

“That is all right, Jake. We did not say 
much about clothes, hut I knew you would not 
forget. And now, I have thought of a plan— 
the safest plan all around for me to get away. 
You know you have a good sailboat. We once 
spoke about her. Well, I will lay low with Ja- 
ja here for a week. That is the time the Havana 
mail steamer, that calls at Charleston, is due. 
By keeping quiet, the heat of the pursuit will 
then be over, you know. ’ 9 

“I am sure I hope so. Then what V 9 
“You remember where I jumped into your 
boat the night I first saw you? On the island, 
near Loon Beach and the inlet V 9 

“Yes; but is not that rather an exposed hid- 
ing place ? ’ 9 

“Possibly; but the good point about it is that 
no one will think of looking for me there. 
Should any one happen to land, I can skip over 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


187 


to one of the other islets. Among the rocks 
and scrub I shall be safe. If it rains, it will be 
tough; but I can endure anything for the sake 
of liberty. Sure, Jake, that your father will 
stick ? ’ ’ 

“Yes. He knows what to do now.” 

Jacob could not bring himself to say that self- 
interest would secure his father’s faithfulness, 
though he knew it well enough. 

“Well, so long, Rad. I had better not be seen 
in these parts too often. One week from to-day 
I will look you up at the place agreed on. When 
you see me coming over in the Sylph, you must 
be ready to jump aboard. I will put you on the 
steamer outside the bar. Should the wind be 
fair, I may be on hand rather early.” 

After a few more words Jacob took his leave, 
and had reached the bottom of the mound when 
he heard a warning exclamation. Turning, he 
saw Gillis running toward him at full speed. 
Old Ja-ja had already disappeared. 


CHAPTEK XIV. 


AT THE STEAMBOAT LANDING— IN CHARLESTON. 

When Gillis came up he said, hurriedly, with- 
out pausing in his gait : 

6 ‘ There are some parties on the other side of 
the mound. I just glimpsed them in time to 
skip. If they see you, simply take things easy, 
and don ’t let on . 9 9 

Then the convict wheeled and buried himself 
in the hushes, just as two armed men on horse- 
back appeared at the summit of the mound. 
They scrutinized the footprints there ; then they 
saw Jacob leisurely riding away. Putting spurs 
to their horses, they rode down and intercepted 
the youth. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


189 


“What are you doing here?” asked one, in a 
rather peremptory tone. 

“What business is it of yours?” replied Ja- 
cob. “I know of no reason why you should 
meddle with my affairs. ’ ’ 

“Look here, boy,” began the man, bluster- 
ingly, when his companion interposed, more 
mildly. 

“Let me talk, Peters. My young friend, we 
are after an escaped convict. We have author- 
ity to question and to search— if need be. You 
look like a good boy. I hope you will be frank 
in what you say. ’ ’ 

Jacob’s heart thrilled a little at the words, 
‘ ‘ escaped convict, ’ ’ but he retained his compos- 
ure. 

‘ ‘ Give me a description of the man, and I can 
tell you whether I have seen or heard anything 
to the point. ’ ’ 

“Five feet, ten inches tall,” read the man 
from a paper which he drew from his pocket. 
“Stout and muscular, will weigh one hundred 


190 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


and seventy pounds. Is active, daring and 
plausible.” 

All this would apply to Gillis. 

Jacob thought an instant, then interrupted 
the officer with the query : 

“White or black!” 

“Black, of course. There was a white pris- 
oner out a month back, but he has skipped the 
State before this, no doubt.” 

Jacob heaved a sigh of relief. Rightly or 
wrongly, he had grown to sympathize with the 
woes of Gillis, whose sins were so deeply shared 
by others. These words also assured him that 
the penitentiary officials had not heard of the 
recent movements of Gillis ; therefore, it would 
be the easier to manage safely the plan the two 
had mutually agreed upon. 

“Now, look here,” said Jake, with assumed 
impatience. “Do you think I’ve got nothing 
else to do than run after such birds as that! I 
don’t know anything about your man, and, what 
is more, I don’t want to know anything. Good- 
morning. I am in a hurry. ’ ’ 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


191 


“ Can’t help it. Queer place, this, for a boy 
to be in a hurry. What might be your business 
over here, anyhow 1 ’ ’ 

“I— I— confound it! Let me pass! I am Ja- 
cob Ehrich, and it’s nothing to you what I am 
up to. ,, 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes it is ! ’ ’ 

One man laid hold of Jacob’s bridle. 

They were in a narrow place, where the gall- 
berries and palmetto clustered thickly. Jacob 
was angry, yet he felt powerless. He should 
have allayed suspicipn, instead of exciting op- 
position. But before anything further occurred 
old Ja-ja burst through the bushes, his eyes 
gleaming wildly, and the numerous little tails 
into which his kinky hair was woven standing 
out stiffly in every direction. 

Without noticing Jacob, he darted under the 
smaller pony ridden by one officer, and suddenly 
raised himself, Samson-like. Surprising as it 
may seem, horse and rider rose in the air on 
the brawny wild man’s shoulders. Then, with 
one surge on the part of Ja-ja, both were flung 


m 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


into the bushes like a sack of grain. As he did 
this, Ja-ja uttered such a soul-searching scream 
that the other ponies bolted, wild with fright. 

Jacob’s horse ran along the path, while the 
one ridden by the officer plunged into a bog al- 
most immediately. By the time he had checked 
his own horse Jake was alone. At; a distance he 
could hear the calls and objurgations of the baf- 
fled officials, but nothing of Ja-ja, who had 
promptly disappeared after effecting this diver- 
sion in Jacob’s favor. 

“I had better get away while things are fa- 
vorable,” he thought, and accordingly made 
good speed for the next half hour or so. 

As he began to feel safe from further trouble 
from the officers, the comic side of the affair 
struck his fancy, and he laughed long and heart- 
ily at the remembrance of the struggling pony 
and the amazed man, as both mounted upward 
on Ja-ja ’s shoulders. 

“I shall always like that negro after this,” 
he thought. “I wager he is the only one around 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


193 


here that could do such a feat. Ha ! ha ! lia ! It 
was as good as a circus.” 

When he reached home Jake found that his 
father had left suddenly for Charleston. This 
news disturbed him greatly, especially as his 
mother could not enlighten him as to the object 
of this unlooked-for trip. 

“He said he must see brother Hiram,” said 
Mrs. Ehrich, “and for us not to look for him 
back until we saw him arrive. ’ 9 

Knowing his father as well as he did, Jacob 
could not help suspecting that this consultation 
with his brother might result unfavorably to 
the plan already outlined in reference to Bugle 
Point and Radnor Gillis. He spent an uneasy 
day and night. The next afternoon he sailed 
over to the steamboat landing in the Sylph ; but 
his father was not among the passengers return- 
ing from town. 

Jake lingered about the wharf in an aimless 
manner until the time was at hand for the 
steamer to start back on her return trip to 
Charleston. Then up drove Paul Roanoak, Ed- 


194 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


gar Legare and Sona, in a crazy-looking rattle- 
trap of a carriage, driven by Uncle Ham, who 
officiated as family coachman for the squire on 
occasion. 

The whistle blew as they hurried by where 
Jacob was standing, at the bow of his pretty lit- 
tle dory that lay moored to a wharf -post. Young 
Ehrich gravely raised his hat to Sona, who 
bowed politely. Legare eyed Jacob without 
other sign of recognition, while Paul nodded 
slightly. 

“They want to cut me,” sighed the boy, as he 
hoisted his boat-sail. “And they hardly know 
how to begin. Hang it! why should I care- 
now ? ’ ’ 

The gang-plank was hauled in, and the 
steamer, churning the water into foam with her 
great stern wheel, drew out into the channel as 
the Sylph shot forward under a brisk northerly 
breeze, her sail trimmed close, and the bur- 
nished copper showing on her weather side, as 
she heeled over to leeward. 

Jacob sat high up on the starboard side, one 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


195 


hand on the tiller, and the other holding the 
main sheet. 

He presented a handsome and manly picture 
as he dexterously held the Sylph to her course, 
giving her all the pressure she would bear, while 
the water boiled and hissed against the port 
gunwale, as it threatened, yet never quite 
reached the top of the washboard. 

“I think I must take back what I said con- 
cerning Jake Ehrich’s being no sailor/ ’ re- 
marked Paul to Sona, as they watched the Sylph 
draw away from the clumsy steamer. 

“I did not know you had said anything of 
the kind. I am sure he seems to understand 
boat-sailing.” 

“Well, if I did not say it, I thought it, and 
perhaps that is as unjust. Jake must be prac- 
ticing a good deal.” 

Presently the Sylph sheered more to the left 
as she entered the channel leading to the West 
Cut, and the steamer churned her way past 
John’s Island, then up the channel leading into 
the main estuary that flows past Fort Sumter. 


196 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Night had fallen when the three pnt np at a 
hotel that is largely frequented by Sea Islanders 
when in town. 

After breakfast the next morning Paul 
started out to attend to some business for his 
father. Legare boarded at the hotel. Sona 
would remain there with her brother for sev- 
eral days. On the pavement Paul was called 
from the upper portico as he was about to walk 
away. 

It was Sona drawing on her gloves. 

“On second thought, I will go part way with 
you, Paul, if you don’t mind. I want to do 
some shopping.” 

So Paul waited patiently through the period 
—always wearying to masculine minds— while 
Sona finished “primping” for the street. She 
came down the ladies’ stairway, girl-like, two 
steps at a time in her haste. 

“Is my hat on straight, Paul? I scarcely 
took time to look in the glass. You boys are 
always in such a hurry.” 

‘ ‘ Straight as a trigger. ’ ’ 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


197 


Paul had hardly looked, but was fixing his 
eyes on a man down the street. 

“You didn’t even glance at me,” pouted 
Sona; but she w'as reasonable, and added, “I 
think, though, it will do. Who on earth are you 
looking at, Paul?” 

“That is Hiram Ehrich, Sidney Ehrich’s 
older brother. See— he has gone into a doctor’s 
office. Who would think such a dried-up, leath- 
ery-looking being would ever be sick ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Don ’t be uncharitable. Perhaps some mem- 
ber of his family is ill.” 

‘ ‘ I hope the doctor will make him pay a rous- 
ing big bill. Every time I see him or his 
worthy brother, I think of the way they euchred 
us out of Bugle Point, and it makes me mad. 
Jake is the only decent one of the family. Even 
he is a little tarred with the same stick, I fear.” 

“You shall not abuse Jacob. I always liked 
him in spite of his folks. Look, Paul. Old Hi- 
ram and the doctor are coming out in an awful 
hurry. There they go round the corner.” 

“Must be a case of fits or something. Well, 


198 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Sona, here is where yon tnrn off into the shop- 
ping region. I’m off to see father’s factors, 
then I’ve got to go to hank. Father wants 
money, but I’m afraid we won’t get what he 
wants. We are always wanting money now- 
adays.” 

‘ ‘ So are we. If it was not for Edgar I don ’t 
know what papa would do. Where shall we 
lunch, Paul?” 

“At Lombardi’s. Meet you there at one 
sharp.” 

The two separated. Paul busied himself by 
running here and there on his father’s affairs. 
He met certain young fellows of his own age in 
certain offices, whom he had known at school or 
elsewhere. At one o’clock he turned into Lom- 
bardi’s well-known restaurant, and waited at a 
convenient table for Sona. 

Presently she came in and greeted him with 
a rather serious and preoccupied air. Her or- 
der was given mechanically, and to some non- 
sense of Paul’s she gave so little heed that he 
began to wonder. 


SEA ISLAND BO ITS. 


199 


“Wliat is the matter, Sona?” he asked, at 
length. “Could you not find your way about 
all right? Or did you fail to match any of those 
samples Aunt Europa is forever giving you 
when you run up to town?” 

“Don’t be silly, Cousin Paul.” Sona fixed 
her eyes earnestly on the boy’s face. “I heard 
a piece of sad news as I came along. At least 
it seems like bad news to me when I think of 
Jacob.” 

“What riddle is this?” 

Paul spoke a little impatiently. 


CHAPTER XV. 


PAUL BEARS A LETTER— UNCLE HIRAM TALKS — 
BACK TO BUGLE POINT — GILLIS APPEARS. 

Sona leaned forward across the table. 

4 ‘Yon know what a rugged-looking man Mr. 
Sidney Ehrich is. Well, as I was passing the 
corner of Church Street, I heard one man say 
to another that Mr. Ehrich was dead. ’ ’ 

“That was close to Hiram Ehrich ’s store,” 
said Paul. ‘ ‘ I wonder where and how he died ! ’ 9 
“I don’t know. Doesn’t it seem awfully sud- 
den, Paul? I know our people didn’t like the 
Ehrichs much, but it makes me feel sad. ’ ’ 

Paul knew that Sona, like himself, was think- 
ing more about the effect of this news on Jacob. 
He now acknowledged to himself that he was 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


201 


real sorry for Jacob, although it was hard to 
separate Jacob from his family, when Paul’s 
thoughts turned in that direction. 

After their luncheon they went to Legare’s 
office, and Paul bade him good-by, as it was 
nearly time for the boat to start. Sona accom- 
panied him to the dock. On the way, old Hiram 
Ehrich passed, went on board and handed a 
letter to the captain. 

“If you see Jacob,” said Sona, as she bade 
Paul farewell, “try and show him some sym- 
pathy. After all, he is not to blame for what 
his father has done.” 

“I suppose not; yet he feels its effect, for he 
enjoys the benefit of it all.” 

“I dare say, if Jacob had his way he would 
do what is right. I always felt that he was a 
gentleman. Yes, Paul— don’t smile.” 

“If I smiled, it was because I think Jake 
lucky in having such a defender. I shall try 
and be civil when he and I meet. ’ ’ 

When the steamboat reached the landing near 


202 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Waccamaw, the captain looked anxiously about 
the almost deserted wharf. 

Paul was the only passenger who got off 
there, and him the captain approached with a 
letter. 

“See here, Roanoak,” said he, “cannot you 
get this over to Ehrichs’ at once? They are 
neighbors of yours. I thought some of their ne- 
groes would be here— they usually are. But 
there isn’t a soul I can trust. It is very impor- 
tant. Ehrich died of apoplexy this morning. 
I don’t suppose his family have heard a word 
yet.” 

“What a shock it will be!” Paul was star- 
tled, for it had not occurred to him before that 
some one must take to them the news. ‘ 1 There 
is no wire down here, and I suppose this letter 
will be their first intimation as to what has hap- 
pened. ’ ’ 

“Right you are. I am going on down to 
Lower Edisto, and when I get back some of the 
family will want to go up. So there is no time 
to lose. Will you take it over?” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


203 


Paul would gladly have dodged the duty, but 
as he looked round, he saw absolutely no one 
but himself to whom so important a missive 
could safely be entrusted. 

“Yes,” he said. “I ought to be willing to do 
this much for any one. I will see that it goes 
over to Bugle Point without delay. How soon 
will you be back?” 

“In about three hours. Tell them not to be 
late if they want to go to town with me.” 

The captain returned on board, and Paul 
walked off rapidly as the steamer puffed her 
way down toward Lower Edisto. 

The boy’s plan was to send old Ham or some 
other servant to Ehrichs’ as soon as he arrived 
at Roanoak Hall. But, as he walked along, his 
pity for the afflicted family grew. Would it 
not look more decent— not to say neighborly— 
to go over himself ? In the presence of illness 
or death, the ordinary likes or dislikes of peo- 
ple ought to be subordinated to the require- 
ments of the occasion. 

So it came about that when he reached the 


204 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


East Cut, instead of turning off to the Hall, he 
paddled across to Waccamaw Island, and hur- 
ried over to the shore opposite the Ehrich 
wharf. 

Here he suddenly remembered there was no 
way to cross except by wading. lie sat down 
on a log to draw off his boots, without hesitat- 
ing. Then he abruptly stopped. 

Some one was crossing the narrow marsh to 
the wharf. It was Jacob. Paul shouted and 
waved the letter. Then he sat down to wait, 
while Jacob, wondering not a little, rowed 
across in his dory. 

“How are you?” greeted Paul, with a cor- 
diality inspired by a sympathy that was now 
both sincere and unreserved. “I have a letter 
the captain wanted me to bring to you. So I 
—so I thought I— I would come at once.” 

“Is it from father?” began Jacob. 

Then he noticed the unusual gravity of Paul ’s 
face and manner, and stopped. 

Taking the letter, he was about to open it, hut 
hesitated. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


205 


“It is for mother, and it is in Uncle Hiram’s 
handwriting. I thank you, Paul, for being so 
kind as to fetch it yourself. It seems singular 
that father did not write.” 

While Jacob looked at the letter as if debat- 
ing whether he had better open it or not, Paul, 
surveying him, felt a great compassion spring 
up within him, that utterly did away with all re- 
serve on his part. 

“Jacob,” said he gently, “perhaps you had 
better open it yourself. At any rate, you ought 
to know what has happened as soon as pos- 
sible. 9 ’ 

Jacob gave one glance into Paul’s eyes, then 
he fell to trembling. 

“Don’t keep me waiting!” he cried. “Is it 
about father?” 

Paul could not keep the tears from his own 
eyes. He dashed them aside, then held out his 
hand. 

“I am so sorry,” he began. “Brace up, Ja- 
cob. Your— your father is—” 


206 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“Not dead?” interrupted young Ehrich, with 
startling vehemence. 

Paul bowed his head, and Jacob clasped his 
hands, looking upward with still dry eyes. 

“Did he do it, I wonder— did he do it?” he 
whispered, as if unconscious of Paul’s presence. 

He was wondering, even then, if his father 
had taken steps with Uncle Hiram to render in- 
effectual his promise to Jacob of restoring Bu- 
gle Point to its former owners. 

Then he sighed, and finally hurst into tears. 
Paul, though rather surprised at this way of 
receiving such news, consoled Jacob as best he 
could, and told all he knew, which was not much, 
beyond the mere fact of hearing of Mr. Ehrich’s 
death. 

Then, as Jacob did not suggest it, he re- 
frained from going further when young Eh- 
rich re-entered his dory. 

“Good-by,” said Paul. “Iam awfully sorry, 
Jacob. No matter what our families may have 
thought of each other, we should only feel kind- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


207 


]y at such a time. If I can help you in any way, 
let me know. ’ ’ 

J acob thanked him in a mechanical way as he 
turned homeward. 

When Paul informed his father of the event, 
the old squire merely remarked, to Aunt Eu- 
ropa: 

“If he had died several years sooner, we 
might have saved our Edisto plantation. Hang 
it! What is the use of my caring for the fel- 
low’s death when I see his dredges scooping up 
all the phosphates that should be ours ? ’ ’ 

“Father!” exclaimed Paul, somewhat 
shocked. 

Aunt Europa merely elevated her eyebrows. 
She was not partial to the Ehrichs herself, es- 
pecially when they would not remain in their 
own proper station, though what that station 
was she hardly knew, only it did not seem right 
for such people to invade Edisto and remain 
there. 

When the steamer returned from Lower Edis- 
to, Jacob, his mother and young Sidney were 


208 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


waiting at the wharf. That night, in Charles- 
ton, Jacob and his Uncle Hiram sat together in 
the room next to wliere all that was mortal of 
Sidney Ehrich senior lay in solemn state. 

“Did father say anything to yon, uncle, as to 
what he wanted done about— about the Bugle 
Point property !” asked Jacob, at length. 

Then he waited in great suspense for an an- 
swer. 

Hiram Ehrich, a dry, elderly, weazened-faced 
man, who loved a dollar as he did his life, lifted 
up his eyebrows in surprise. 

“No. Why should he! The place is all safe 
now— all safe now. You will have a fine prop- 
erty, Jacob.” 

‘ ‘ Who— I ! How is that, uncle ! ’ 9 

“He was a good father. He took me to our 
lawyer yesterday, not two hours before he was 
seized. Then he added a codicil to his will.” 

“What was it! That is what I want to know. 
About what he wanted done! Isn’t it singular 
he should alter his will just now ! ’ ’ 

“It looks as if he almost expected something 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


209 


would happen. But, then, your father was al- 
ways altering something.” 

“What makes you think I will have a fine 
property, then?” 

“That lawyer, Mr. Esmond, was in here after 
the news of Sidney’s death got out. He said, 
as he left, that you would have a fine property. 
That is all I know. Your father did not let me 
read the codicil, though I signed as one of the 
witnesses. ’ ’ 

“Was not that a little strange, uncle!” 

“To he sure it was. It seemed to me almost 
unkind, considering that we have worked to- 
gether all our lives. I saw that something was 
on his mind, yet I asked no questions.” 

But the day after the funeral, when the will 
was read by Mr. Esmond, the question that min- 
gled so persistently with Jacob’s grief for his 
parent’s death was answered. There were be- 
quests of various kinds to the widow and other 
relatives, bearing various dates. Uncle Hiram 
was remembered with a mourning ring and the 
bestowal of his brother’s interest in certain 


210 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


town property. Not once was Jacob’s name 
mentioned, until the codicil, bearing date three 
days before, was prosaically droned off by the 
methodical lawyer. It read as follows, in sub- 
stance : 

“To my oldest son, Jacob, in consideration 
of the interest he has specially manifested of 
late in my affairs, I devise and bequeath my 
Bugle Point property, situated and described as 
follows, to wit (here followed a fully accurate 
description of the estate thus bestowed) to have 
and to hold, and to further dispose of as may 
to him seem best, without let or hindrance of 
any kind from any person or persons whomso- 
ever. ’ 9 

While looks of surprise were exchanged by 
others, Jacob sat perfectly still. He was asking 
himself questions that tortured his conscience 
by their persistency. In bequeathing to his old- 
est son this property alone, had Mr. Ehrich 
acted from a belated sense of his own duty or 
from motives of punishment? Had he relied 
more on Jacob’s honor than on his own! Or 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


211 


had he left merely the Bugle Point estate to 
J acob with a view of placing the alternative be- 
fore him of beggaring himself at the call of 
honor, or ’ of stifling honor in behalf of self- 
interest? 

Had Mr. Ehrich lived, this burden would not 
have fallen on Jacob, except indirectly, as the 
son’s influence might have impelled the father 
to do what was right. But as it now was, the 
fulfillment of what the son had so strongly urged 
upon the father would fall upon the son alone. 
It would also leave Jacob penniless, as all the 
rest of Mr. Ehrich ’s property was left to others 
—mostly to Sidney junior and Mrs. Ehrich. 

Meanwhile the other heirs were looking on 
Jacob as being exceedingly fortunate. The Bu- 
gle Point estate was the most valuable invest- 
ment Mr. Ehrich had made. The phosphate 
works, started by him, were proving very pro- 
fitable. 

But while others were wondering and com- 
menting, Jacob himself said little or nothing. 
He was fighting the battle of his life. 


212 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Four days after the death of the head of the 
house the Ehrich family, accompanied by Uncle 
Hiram, returned to Edisto. On the boat young 
Sidney prowled about the docks, engine-room, 
men’s quarters, and even invaded the captain’s 
state-room. 

From this he was ejected, and he presently 
came across Jacob, standing by the deck-rail, 
staring vacantly at the ruins of old Fort Sum- 
ter, which they were then passing. 

“I say, Jake,” said Sidney, who, after his 
first outburst of grief, had taken his father’s 
death lightly, “what’s the matter with you? If 
I was as big as you are, the captain wouldn’t 
order me round so easy. He is too fresh, any- 
how.” 

“Keep yourself from prying and nosing 
round where you’ve no business to he, then. 
You should keep quiet and behave at such a 
time as this, I think. Look at poor mother.” 

“I can’t help mother’s crying, can I? It won’t 
help father for me to snuffle around, as far as I 
can see. And here you are, as glum as an owl. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


213 


You’ll be putting on airs next over being boss 
down at Bugle Point. Uncle says father ought 
to have given you a guardian, as he did me. ’ ’ 

For an instant Jacob wished that such a 
course had been followed, yet he soon repelled 
the feeling as unworthy of himself, under the 
peculiar conditions relating to the bequest- 
conditions understood now by himself alone. 
He had already made up his mind what he 
should do, and was only undecided as to the 
best method of bringing about the change he 
had determined on. 

Of course his own relatives would oppose 
him. He was not sure but what they would at- 
tempt to deprive him of the control of the prop- 
erty, on the ground that he was still a minor, 
and hardly capable of knowing what was best 
for his own interests. He had confidence in his 
mother’s sense of what was right, however. 

That night he told her privately what had 
passed between himself and Gillis, and also re- 
lated the conversation he had had with his fa- 
ther. 


214 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Mrs. Ehrich was greatly shocked, hut the ef- 
fect was to rather neutralize her natural grief 
and brace up her moral courage. 

4 ‘Are you sure, Jacob, that you have not mis- 
taken things?” she finally asked. “I never 
dreamed that such work was going on, or that 
your father would countenance such methods. 
Your uncle Hiram is at the bottom of all this, 
I feel sure. He has influenced your father.” 

“I think so, too, mother. He knows where 
that stolen State grant is. Do you think he will 
give it up ? ” 

“He might be made to, if he felt that Radnor 
Gillis’ testimony would inculpate him in the 
eyes of the law. But do not let us do anything 
hastily. I feel shocked and mortified, Jacob. 
To think that we have been living here for years 
wrongfully! I don’t wonder we are despised 
by the neighbors— if they have an inkling of the 
real state of affairs.” 

“We can right the wrong, mother. That is 
what I am determined to do, if I have to work 
for day wages to support myself hereafter. I 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


215 


thank father, now, that he has put it in my 
power to do this thing. ’ ? 

“As soon as may be, I will move to my own 
house in town. Sidney will go with me. Mean- 
time you must keep your appointment with poor 
Rad. I hope he will get off safely. You might, 
as a precautionary measure, ask him to send 
you an affidavit, signed and witnessed in a thor- 
oughly legal way, as to the theft of the deed. ’ 9 

Mrs. Ehrich here stopped, and turned deathly 
pale. She was thinking that this step might 
compromise the memory of her husband, yet 
even that— her conscience told her— should be 
subordinated to the requirements of justice and 
honor. 

Jacob divined the nature of her emotion. 

“I know all this is hard, mother / 9 said he. 
“But let us do what is right to the living. We 
cannot harm the dead.” 

The widowed mother gave way to tears, yet 
she thanked God that He had given her such a 
son. Jacob, on his part, felt strengthened for 
his approaching encounter with Uncle Hiram. 


216 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


That old gentleman went back to town the 
following day, but he took time to go over the 
whole place, and was profuse in advice to Ja- 
cob as to the best way whereby the plantation 
and works should be managed. 

“I tell you, Jake,” he chuckled, “you are one 
lucky boy. It is a fine place. No end of money 
to he made, and all in your own hands— and you 
hardly eighteen. At your age I was working 
for old Ezra Davis, on Myrtle Street, for five 
dollars a week. Some folks might kick at your 
father putting such power into the hands of a 
minor ; but Esmond, he says it is all good down 
here.” 

“Though I am very young, I shall try to do 
what is right,” replied Jacob, cautiously, for he 
was not yet ready to come to an issue with Uncle 
Hiram. 

“The right thing, Jake, is to make more 
money. Money makes the mare go, Jake. Don’t 
you forget that.” 

Uncle Hiram went his way, scattering what 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


217 


he considered good counsel in profusion behind 
him. 

The days passed quietly. There were no call- 
ers. Even Paul did not follow up his friendly 
manifestations on the occasion of delivering the 
letter to J acob. Sona Legare, too, remained in- 
visible, though it was learned that she had re- 
turned from the city. 

“Well,” thought Jacob, “I cannot help this 
sort of thing. Somehow it does not hurt so bad 
as it did. I think it is because I have made up 
my mind to do what is right, no matter what 
happens.” 

The young man busied himself about the 
property. The works, after being closed two 
days, at the time of the funeral in town, were 
reopened. 

Mr. EhriclPs foreman was trusty and com- 
petent. Jacob simply told him to go ahead, as 
usual. The office he took charge of himself, and 
managed in a way that caused the old book- 
keeper to say that young Ehrich would develop 
as good a head for business as his father’s. 


218 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


The day appointed for the meeting with Gil- 
lis opened with a clear sky, a brisk southeast 
wind, and a scurry of light clouds in the north- 
ern horizon, as if old Boreas might stir up some- 
thing in that quarter before night. 

Jacob told his mother privately what he was 
intending to do, though Sidney supposed that 
a fishing trip was intended, and grew sulky be- 
cause Jacob would not take him along. 

As the Sylph shot across the sound toward the 
cluster of islets near Loon Beach, sundry vex- 
ing flaws of wind blackened the water from time 
to time, in a way that gave Jacob some premon- 
itory anxiety. 

“It will be rough outside / 9 he said to him- 
self, as he hauled up under the lee of the very 
islet where Gillis had sprung on board the 
dory. “I hope the Havana steamer will run 
close in to-day. ’ 9 

As he lowered the sail and pushed the boat be- 
hind a projecting chain of rocks, the bushes 
parted and Gillis appeared. Jacob hardly rec- 
ognized the man. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


219 


“Why, Rad,” he said, laughingly. “I 
thought it was some Charleston dude, instead of 
Rad Gillis! Did you have old Ja-ja for a 
valet?” 

But instead of replying to this badinage in 
the same way, Gillis held up a warning finger. 

The escaped convict was, however, greatly al- 
tered in his appearance and for the better. His 
face was cleanly shaved, except for a mous- 
tache, and his short hair was well brushed. A 
neat business suit of gray cassimere and a pair 
of well-blacked shoes completed his toilet. 

All this change was owing to the generously- 
packed grip that J acob had brought to the shell- 
mound. 

“What is the matter, Rad?” asked Jacob, 
holding the Sylph’s nose close to a rock, so that 
Gillis might jump aboard, which he did rather 
hastily. 

“Hoist away, Jake, and get out into the 
sound as quick as you can,” replied Gillis. “I 
mustn’t be seen just yet.” 

So saying, he crawled under the half-decked 


. 220 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


bow, somewhat at the risk of soiling his new 
clothing. Jacob hoisted sail, pushed off with 
his boat-hook, and soon the Sylph was easing 
away toward the inlet with the wind abeam. 

“Look if you can see old Ja-ja’s signal, Jake. 
He was to hoist a handkerchief I gave him, at 
intervals, if those fellows showed any sign of 
following us.” 

“What fellows?” questioned Jacob. “Are 
we being watched ? ’ 9 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE SHARPIE MAKING SEAWARD— AN EXCHANGE — 
OLD HAM GRUMBLES. 

Gillis peered cautiously over the weather gun- 
wale before he answered. 

“We are hardly far enough to see them yet,” 
he said, at length. 

‘ ‘ See who ? Why don ’t you let me know what 
is up at once?” 

i ‘ There is a large sharpie right opposite 
where you took me on board. They landed just 
before you came across, and they appear to be 
fishing. But somehow I cannot help feeling 
that they are the same fellows who tried to 
catch me at the shell-mound that day. I say, 
Jake, how did you get away? Old Ja-ja would 


222 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


only grin and matter when I asked him about 
it.” 

Jacob smiled and briefly told how Ja-ja came 
to his rescue. Then Gillis told how he and Ja- 
ja outwitted the officers, and returned to Towie 
Swamp, where they remained quietly hidden 
until their arrival at the islets, the night before 
these present happenings. 

“Look!” exclaimed Jacob. “There goes Ja- 
ja ’s signal, I think.” 

A red handkerchief was waved several times 
above the scrub on the islet, then disappeared. 
Then a sharpie came out from behind a point of 
palmetto and headed for the inlet. Three men 
were aboard, and one of them was pointing at 
the Sylph, which was also making the same 
course, and was about half a mile to windward. 

“They are either going out on the bar to fish 
or they are intending to intercept us at the in- 
let.” 

‘ 4 They are not troubling about fishing only as 
a blind, Jake. They are after me. Is your boat 
a fast one?” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


223 


“She cannot be beat round here. But bow 
could they have got on your track again ? ’ ’ 

“Well, there are a half dozen watching the 
land routes, and I suppose these fellows are 
cruising up and down the sound to prevent me 
or that negro from getting away by sea.” 

“It is a dead beat to the inlet. From their 
position on the weather side of the islets, they 
have the start of us. But perhaps we can dodge 
them among the islands at this end of the chan- 
nel leading out to the bar . 9 9 

From their respective positions and the course 
necessarily marked out for both, the two craft 
gradually drew nearer to each other. 

Gillis remained carefully concealed, and 
seemed more anxious than usual. The men on 
the sharpie sat well to windward. Jacob could 
see rifles leaning against the wash-board in the 
stern. One of them occasionally scanned the 
Sylph with a glass. 

Both boats were close-hauled on the wind, 
which blew directly from a number of man- 
grove islands that clustered about the landward 


224 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


end of the inlet. Perhaps three-quarters of a 
mile now separated the two boats. 

About this time a long dug-out canoe ap- 
peared from behind one of these islands, head- 
ing for the west toward Waccamaw. A large, 
ragged sprit sail was hoisted, and, the wind 
being free, she bore down on the sharpie at a 
great rate. 

“That is Paul Roanoak’s boat,” said Jacob. 
“I think he and old Ham are aboard.’ ’ 

Then he fell into a reverie. Both canoe and 
sharpie remained together for a moment. Then 
the canoe resumed her course, and presently the 
sharpie dodged behind the nearest island, she 
having had the advantage in position c T er the 
Sylph, thus being able to gain the reaches of 
the inlet first. 

“She will lie there in wait for us,” thought 
Jacob; “hut if Paul is still true, I may he able 
to thwart these fellows yet . 9 9 

The sharpie having disappeared, he headed 
the Sylph for the canoe, and presently the two 
craft were within hailing distance. Gillis said 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


225 


nothing, feeling instinctively that Jacob had 
some plan in view. 

“ Hello, Roanoak!” called Jacob. “Will you 
do me another favor without asking any ques- 
tions, until I can explain things safely myself f ’ ’ 

Paul was surprised, of course, at this abrupt 
request. 

“Less git on, Marse Paul,” urged old Ham 
from amidships. “Don’t you go projikin long 
er dem Ehrichs any mo \ ’ ’ 

But Paul’s answer was to change the canoe’s 
course with a sweep of his paddle, that brought 
it alongside of the Sylph. 

Then both boats hung together, with their 
sails shivering loosely in the wind. 

“Of course I will, Jacob,” said Paul, to the 
first request, though his manner was somewhat 
reserved. 

Jacob’s face flushed, then he grew pale. He 
felt that the moment was a critical one for both 
Gillis and himself. There was also no time to 
lose. 

The sharpie might reappear at any moment, 


226 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


or the man with the field-glass might be looking 
at them even then. 

“I know this all sounds queer, Paul,” con- 
tinued Jacob, pluckily. “But I have a man here 
who is in a very tight place, more through the 
faults of others than his own. I am trying to do 
him a service, and I want your aid for an hour 
or so.” 

The pause that ensued before Paul replied 
was painfully intense to Gillis, even more than 
to Jacob. 

“This is coming it rather strong, isn’t it!” 
Paul did not know what to think. “What is it 
you want me to do ? ” 

“I want you to exchange boats with me for 
a little while. I know you will think it strange, 
and there is hardly time to explain why I want 
to do this. Be. sure of one thing, though. You 
will be helping the wretched, and conferring a 
favor on me that I think I can return with in- 
terest before long.” 

“You speak in riddles,” Paul hesitated. 

“Squar’ away dat sail, Marse Paul,” whis- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


227 


pered Ham. “Dat Ehrich, he ain’t atter no 
good, no how. ’ ’ 

1 1 Hush, Ham ! ’ ’ Paul looked steadily into J a- 
cob’s open, anxious face, then added, decisively, 
“Hun alongside. If you are in a hurry, the 
quicker we change about the better. I don’t 
see but one of you, though.’ ’ 

While speaking the canoe and the dory 
touched sides, and Gillis leaped lightly into the 
former, grip in hand. 

“Best assured, sir, that you are as good as 
saving an unfortunate man’s life,” he said, as 
he coiled himself down in the bottom. 

Paul said nothing, except to ask Jacob: 

“Where are we to go, and what are we to 
do?” 

“Bun on to the inlet. If the sharpie tries to 
overhaul you, show her your heels. Dodge 
round among the islands, and hang about here 
somewhere until I come back.” 

“And you, Jacob?” 

“I shall run up inside to the upper inlet, and 
put out there. We are going to intercept the 


228 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Havana steamer. When she passes I will re- 
turn. ’ ’ 

* 1 Alone ?” asked Paul, meaningly. 

“Yes, alone. I know it looks queer; but when 
I tell you all, as I expect to in a few days, I 
think you will say that I have done the right 
thing under the circumstances. ’ ’ 

“I lay you don’t do no sech a t’ing,” grum- 
bled Ham, sotto voce . 

“Be quiet, Ham! Well, I always liked you 
personally, Jacob. I think I am giving proof 
of it now. Sheer off. ’ ’ 

The two boats, having changed crews, fell 
apart, the canoe going up the inner side of Mul- 
let Beach toward the upper inlet, five miles 
away, while the Sylph, with Paul at the tiller, 
resumed her course toward the inlet. By the 
boy’s direction, the old negro crawled under the 
bow— much, however, to his own dissatisfaction. 

“Only one of us should be seen,” said Paul, 
remembering that Gillis had kept out of sight, 
and that if he was to personate Jacob a similar 
caution must be observed as to Ham’s presence. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


229 


The dory soon reached the channel running 
between the islands at the month of the inlet, 
and passed leisurely through, as if bent only on 
purposes of sport or pleasure. The sharpie was 
not visible until the Sylph had reached the inlet 
proper. Then Paul saw the two-sailed boat 
cruising near the bar, as if engaged in fishing 
for bass, skip- jack, or other deep-water fish. 

“Ham, I reckon we might as well go fishing, 
too. It will pass the time. I see Jacob has 
brought along some tackle.” 

“How I gwine ter fish wifout dem ar folks on 
de sharpie a-seein’ me? I ain’t made ob look- 
in ’-glass, if I is ’gaged in sech foolishness as 
dish yere. ’ ’ 

“Well, you can sit in the bottom of the boat 
and bait the hooks. Here is a covered pail with 
some live mullet swimming ’round. Jacob must 
have anticipated some sport, if only as a blind.” 

So Paul anchored the Sylph behind a little 
bite that mad6 out from shore at the turn of the 
inlet seaward, and for an hour or more fished 
with considerable success. Ham baited the 


230 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


hooks and grumbled in his usual strain. The 
glass in the sharpie was leveled at the Sylph 
more and more frequently. 

4 4 Those fellows are getting puzzled, ’ ’ thought 
Paul. 4 4 They evidently expected the Sylph to 
try and cross the bar. Now they don’t know 
what to think. ’ ’ 

At last, Paul saw the great foresail of the 
sharpie swing outward before the wind. Then 
the mainsail followed suit, and the boat came 
toward the Sylph at a nine-knot gait, both wind 
and the incoming tide favoring such a course. 

4 4 Shall I wait for him, or take counsel of 
Jake and show him our heels?” Paul asked him- 
self, as he watched the approach of the two 
swaying lug-sails. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE SHAKPIE GIVES CHASE — OLD HAM OBJECTS — 
A SAIL. 

Uncle Ham bad in the meantime fallen asleep 
under the bow. 

“So much the better/ ’ reflected Paul. “I 
shall be rid of his remonstrances for a time. I 
must be acting strangely to the old man. I can 
hardly explain it to myself, except that I some- 
how feel that Jacob would not ask me to do a 
really wrong thing. Sona might approve of 
this ; but as for the rest of our folks, they would 
deem me either idiotic or crazy. ’ ’ 

While thinking thus, Paul had drawn up an- 
chor and allowed his sail to fill. The Sylph was 
gliding back up toward the island, when there 
came a call from the sharpie. 


232 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


1 1 Boat ahoy!” rang over the water. “Hold 
on ; we want to speak with you ! ’ ’ 

can ontrnn him with this boat,” thought 
Paul. ‘ ‘ What had 1 better do V 9 

A man in the sharpie’s bow was still shouting 
and gesticulating. Paul hesitated only a mo- 
ment longer. Then, instead of squaring away 
before the wind, he trimmed his sheets closer, 
and awaited the arrival of the other boat. 

When the sharpie was within fifty yards, how- 
ever, Paul pushed his helm a-weather, and di- 
rectly the Sylph was gliding away from the 
more clumsy, larger boat at a rate that con- 
vinced Paul he could play at will with these pry- 
ing people as long as the wind held. 

At this juncture Ham awoke. 

“Whar is we now, Marse Paul'?” 

“We are almost alongside the sharpie. So 
lie still and hold your tongue.” 

Ham subsided with muffled grumblings. 
There came another hail from the sharpie. 

“We want to come aboard of you!” rang out. 
“Ease up there !” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


233 


“lie seems to be a peremptory sort of a fel- 
low,” thought Paul, who kept on his course 
without obeying. 

“We are officers of the law !” shouted the man 
with the glass. “I order you to lie to until we 
are up with you.” 

While this was going on, old Ham suddenly 
popped his head above the gunwale. Paul in- 
stantly ordered him down, but the negro’s face 
was seen. A hurried consultation took place on 
board the sharpie. The men grasped their 
Winchesters. Then a third call was heard. 

“We are after an escaped convict from Poc- 
ataglio. We have reason to think you have him 
on board. So halt, there, or we shall compel 
you to stop. ’ ’ 

‘ * Will, eh ? ” At the man ’s domineering tone, 
Paul’s eye began to glitter. “What do you 
think, Ham? They say you are a convict. 
What do you say to that, you old sinner?” 

“Don’t say nuttin’. I ’lowed we-alls would 
git inter a rukus de way you been gwine on. 
Dat I sho ’ly did, Marse Paul. ’ ’ 


234 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Ham spoke sulkily, but Paul merely laughed. 
He began to feel reckless. 

“What kind of a man is your convict ?” he 
called to the sharpie. 

“Negro, five feet ten inches high;” and the 
man repeated the description in a high mon- 
otone. 

“Does that fit you, Ham?” said Paul. “If it 
does, you are a better looking negro than I’ve 
given you credit for being.” 

“Marse Paul, you hesh up dat ar nonsense. 
Let de gen’lum see who I is. Old Ham ain’t 
afeard of any ’tenshary gyard ’at ever helt a 
gun. Ole Ham ain ’t done nuttin ’. ’ ’ 

“I don’t know about that. You’ve been sass- 
ing me, and it may be that fellow knows of worse 
things. At any rate, I don’t intend he shall lug 
you off without he has a good race for it.” 

While thus joking with the old darkey, Paul 
had held the Sylph to her course, despite the 
warnings of the officer on the sharpie, who, see- 
ing that no heed was given to his threats, began 
to ostentatiously examine his Winchester. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


235 


“Yo’d better ease up and stop dish yere fool- 
ishness, Marse Paul,” said Ham, anxiously. 
“Fust you know, he plug a bullet th’oo one ob 
us, sho’ly.” 

‘ 4 Then get under cover again, and it will not 
be you, ,, rejoined Paul, heading for the nearest 
mangrove island, now but a few rods oft the 
Sylph’s bow. 

This suggestion Ham proceeded to adopt 
rather hastily, after a final glance at the shar- 
pie, where one of the men was moving forward, 
rifle in hand. 

“I lay I ain’t gwine ter git shot, if you is, 
Marse Paul. Time you git older, you sense mo ’ 
’bout keepin’ a hole outen dat hide er you’n.” 

By this time Ham was under the bow. Paul 
sat, with his hat rakishly pulled over one ear 
and his whole manner expressing jocular de- 
fiance. 

In a few more minutes the Sylph would be 
out of sight behind the mangroves. The sharpie 
had been losing ground rapidly, and was con- 


236 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


siderably to the rear of her former relative po- 
sition when she first hailed the yacht. 

“If yon don’t stop, we shall fire,” sung out 
the spokesman of the party. 

“Oh, no, you won’t!” coolly replied Paul. 
“At least you’re not going to risk a shooting 
match on mere suspicion.” Then, to himself, 
in lower voice, “If you do, you are a bigger 
fool than I take you to be.” 

4 ‘ Stop, I command ! ’ ’ 

Paul kept his course. The point of man- 
groves was almost at hand. The man in the 
bow of the sharpie suddenly raised his weapon. 

A loud report followed. The bullet sung past 
the Sylph’s gaff, twenty feet above the deck. 

“That is to scare us; but”— Paul shoved the 
tiller hard down— “we don’t scare so easily. 
Eh, Ham?” 

The yacht shot gracefully out of sight, behind 
the mangroves, and, assisted by the incoming 
tide, glided like some great swan round the bend 
of a small channel, one of several formed by 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


237 


the network of islets that stretched for a mile 
or more from the inside entrance to the inlet np 
the sound shore of Mullet Beach. 

‘ 4 He is more liable to take the wrong channel 
here than the right one, for there are three 
times as many of them. I say, Ham, rouse out, 
now! We can dodge about here all day from 
this fellow.” 

“’Tain’t right, Marse Paul! We’d orter let 
him run up and take a look at us. ’Tain’t no 
good dodgin’ de law, in de long run.” 

“Well we may as well be shot for a sheep as 
for a gopher. If it was wrong to do as Jake Eh- 
rich desired, it is no addition to the scrape we 
are in to make these pen fellows a little trouble. 
It amuses me, and it doesn’t hurt them— much.” 

“I lay dey hu’t yo’, though, when dey kotch 
us?” 

“Yes, ivhen they do,” with a meaning empha- 
sis on the “when.” 

For an hour or more Paul played mischiev- 
ously with the sharpie. He knew the crooked 
channels and tide-currents perfectly, and his 


238 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


boat was the swifter. The guards were simply 
choking with rage. As Paul knew, they dare 
not shoot to hurt on a vague suspicion ; but they 
stuck to their purpose of overhauling the Sylph 
with a persistence worthy of better success. 

But at last even Paul wearied of the one- 
sided chase. The guards also wondered why— 
with so fast a boat— he lingered about the inlet, 
instead of availing himself of the southeaster 
to escape up the sound. It began to look as if 
Paul were merely tantalizing them. Would he 
do so if he really had an escaped convict 
aboard 1 

So, without abandoning the chase entirely, 
the sharpie hung more about the mouths of the 
different channels, while the Sylph flitted hither 
and thither, in a seemingly strange and aimless 
way. 

“This is growing tiresome,” said Paul, at 
last. “I wish Jake Ehrich would come back 
with our boat. We shall miss our dinner/ ’ 

They were nearing the open inlet then. The 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


239 


sharpie was somewhere behind, among the isl- 
ands. Old Ham mounted the bow and stood by 
the mast. 

1 1 Hi-yo ! 9 9 He pointed eastward and seaward. 
“Look out yan way, Marse Paul!” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


JACOB RETURNS — THE OFFICERS ARE ANGRY— 
BAFFLED. 

Paul rose in the stern, gripping the tiller be- 
tween his knees. Half a mile away a long, low 
boat, carrying a single sail, was making in 
across the bar. Far to seaward, a black trail of 
smoke marked the receding passage of the Ha- 
vana steamer, bound out. 

The boat was PauPs canoe. One figure 
showed at the stern. Had Jacob been success- 
ful! Was the out-bound steamer intercepted! 
Paul would soon know'. 

Shortly after this the sharpie became visible, 
as it emerged from behind the nearest island. 
The canoe was now coming in over the bar. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


241 


Under the brisk breeze the surges were break- 
ing for a long distance to seaward, and both 
Paul and Ham watched the progress of their 
battered dug-out amid the breakers so intently, 
that the boat containing the officers approached 
unperceived for a time. 

‘ ‘ Dat ar ’ young Ehrich, he mighty good hand 
wif a boat, atter all,” acknowledged Ham, at 
length. “Ki-yah! Look out dar, white boy! 
Breaker lak to git you dat time, sho ’ ! ” 

An unusually large comber had rolled appar- 
ently clear over the canoe as Ham spoke. For 
a few seconds Paul thought that Jacob had cer- 
tainly capsized. Then the tip of the high sprit 
was visible, and the sail swung heavily into 
view, followed by the upward pointing bow of 
the canoe. 

Jacob could be seen braced back to windward, 
as he kept a tight grip on the steering oar, that 
he had thrust out to assist the rudder. 

“Jake is a good boatman, and no mistake/ ’ 
thought Paul. ‘ ‘ How completely I used to mis- 
judge him when I called him a Miss Nancy.” 


242 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Paul rose in the Sylph and waved his hat en- 
couragingly, for Jacob was just entering the in- 
ner line of breakers. The stern of the dug-out 
rose high in the air. Jacob’s legs could be seen 
spread far apart, as he held himself up against 
the heave of the boat. Then canoe, boatman 
and even sail disappeared again, as if that last 
tremendous surge had swallowed everything. 

‘ ‘ Great king ! ’ ’ shouted Ham, springing up in 
his excitement. “Marse Jake gone up dis yere 
time. Less us git out dar, Marse Paul. Bettah 
pick de boy up fo’ shark git him.” 

Paul had already altered his course toward 
where the last glimpse of Jacob had been 
caught. The great comber passed on, broke 
upon the inner bar, and dashed into a spread- 
ing, boiling cataract of foam. Then the canoe 
was seen in the midst, floating rather low, with 
Jacob busily bailing out water by the bucketful. 

The Sylph made a 4 ‘ short leg” to windward, 
and hauled up just abaft the stern of the canoe, 
which was half full of water. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


243 


“ Throw me a line, Jacob,” called Paul. “I 
will give you a tow into still water.” 

This was done at once. Ham made fast the 
line round the Sylph’s traveler, and the two 
boats swept up the inlet before the southeast 
wind at a rate that brought them abreast of the 
sharpie in a few minutes. 

The officers rounded their boat to, in such a 
way as to sheer up alongside the Sylph— a 
movement that Paul did not now attempt to 
frustrate. Then they looked at Ham scrutin- 
izingly 

“Do you recognize him!” asked Paul, some- 
wnat sneeringly. 

“He rs noi cur man,” replied one officer, in a 
disgusted tone. “Why could you not have let 
us come up before! It would have saved a lot 
of trouble.” 

“I am not supposed to bother my head about 
your affairs. If you choose to meddle with 
mine, that is your lookout. ’ ’ 

“Young man, do you know we are officers of 
the law ! ’ ’ 


244 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“So you have said. I have only your word 
for it, though. ’ ’ 

“Let the boy alone, Peters,’ ’ spoke the leader, 
sharply. “We were fools for following him.” 

He turned to Jacob. 

“Are you not in the same boat we stopped 
three hours ago inside the sound ! ’ ’ 

“How should I know!” said Jacob; for now 
that Gillis was safe he felt like chaffing these 
men, who had striven to make trouble. “You 
did not stop me, however. ’ ’ 

The officers glanced from the canoe to the 
Sylph, then they once more scrutinized the oc- 
cupants of the two craft. There was a mystery 
here. When they had first overhauled the dug- 
out the two men who were now in the Sylph 
were then in the canoe. 

What did this change denote! How was it 
that the canoe, after disappearing up the sound, 
was but just now coming in over the breakers 
with a new man at the helm ! 

“Look here, young men,” said the leader 
among the penitentiary officers. “You have 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


245 


been up to some game. We don’t see into it yet, 
but we will, sooner or later. It is dangerous 
joking with the law— you are sure to get the 
worst of it in the long run. Come, now, be open 
with us; what is your game? We’ll let you off 
easy for what you ’ve already done, if you make 
a clean breast of it right here.” 

“ You will, eh?” 

Paul glanced at Jacob as he spoke. 

It was Jacob’s affair. Let Jacob, therefore, 
say what he chose. But Jacob merely winked 
at Paul, as an intimation that he had nothing to 
explain to these representatives of the law. 

“See here,” said one of the officers, impa- 
tiently. “What are you after, anyhow?” 

“Want to know real bad?” 

Paul’s tone was openly mocking, and in his 
eye was a glint of careless mischief. 

“Yes, and we propose to know, too.” 

“Well— in with you, Jake. Make that line 
fast, Ham. If you really and truly must know 
that which is none of your confounded business, 
we are after our dinners just at present. And 


246 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


if you don’t quit bothering us we may miss 
them. Therefore, take good advice, and attend 
to your own affairs— that is, if you have any to 
attend to, which I somewhat doubt when I see 
the impudence with which you persist in med- 
dling with ours. Trim that sheet in, Ham— so ! 
We will take the south channel this time.” 

While Paul was speaking the canoe had been 
taken in tow of the Sylph, Jacob had entered 
his own boat, and the dainty little craft was 
gliding away on the last of the flood tide to- 
wards Waccamaw and the deferred dinners. 

‘ ‘ Hold on there ! ’ ’ stormed the officer in com- 
mand, now thoroughly angered. “You don’t 
get away so easy, after leading us on such a 
wild goose chase. I order you to lie to and stay 
by us. I am by no means satisfied that you have 
not been guilty of an infraction of the law. In- 
deed, I feel sure on that point. ’ ’ 

“It is time this nonsense stopped— eh, Ja- 
cob?” said Paul. 

“I think so,” responded young Ehrich. “You 
and Ham get into the canoe and go on. I will 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


247 


give myself up in the Sylph. He can do noth- 
ing. My man is safe now, thanks to your aid.” 

“ No— -hang the fellow! He shall not lord it 
over us in such style. ’ 1 

Paul rose again and called out* 

“Here, you! My name is Roanoak. I am a 
son of Squire Roanoak, of Waccamaw. This is 
young Ehrich. of Bugle Point. We are well 
known, and if you want us we can easily be 
found. We are going home. Now follow us, if 
you like.” 

After that the occupants of the Sylph gave 
no further heed to the sharpie or the officers, 
though the latter shouted and threatened for a 
time. Finally, seeing that they could not over- 
take the fleet dory and its tow, they sheered off 
and bore away towards the southwest, making 
down the sound. 

“I knew they dare not shoot,” said Paul, as 
they neared the entrance to the East and West 
Cuts.. “But as long as we have vexed them so, 
and as they are really officers of the law, per- 
haps you had better not explain anything to me 


248 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


yet, Jacob. If I am asked awkward questions, 
the less I know the easier I can avoid explana- 
tions.” 

“This is very good of you, Paul.” Jacob’s 
eyes nearly filled, for he was keenly sensitive 
to good as well as evil opinions. “I shall find 
it difficult to repay you. Mere thanks sound in- 
adequate. But this I will say. You have done 
nothing really wrong to-day. But you have 
aided a much persecuted man to go where he 
can have another chance to make something of 
himself. And, finally, I hope to show you be- 
fore long that I am not ungrateful.’ ’ 

“Good-by, old fellow! Don’t worry about 
repaying what Ham and I have done. As for 
those penitentiary fellows, I don’t value their 
threats at a picayune. ’ ’ 

“Good-by, Paul. I wish things were differ- 
ent, so we might see more of each other.” 

“So do I. But we cannot help it, I suppose. 
So long, Jacob!” 

Old Ham turned the canoe up the East Cut. 

Paul smiled back at Jacob, though he rather 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


249 


wondered at himself later on that he had done 
what he had, to further the desires of an Ehrich. 

Jacob hurried homeward, moored the Sylph 
to the end of the wharf, and hastened in to his 
mother’s presence. 

‘ ‘ Any one about, mother ? ’ ’ he asked, in a pre- 
cautionary tone. ‘ 4 Where is Sid ? ’ ’ 

“He is at the stables, I think. Did you suc- 
ceed at last?” 

“I got Bad safely off, if that is what you 
mean. But I should never have succeeded but 
for Paul Boanoak.” 

Jacob then told how he had been pursued, and 
what Paul and old Ham had done. 

“I tell you, mother, I felt all the time as if 
Paul was heaping live coals on my head. But 
I shall repay him. Thank God, mother, that I 
can repay him now. ’ ’ 

“Of course you will. But tell me what Bad 
said. How about that affidavit? What did he 
say when you told him about your father’s sud- 
den death?” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


JACOB GOES UP TO TOWN — UNCLE HIRAM REFUSES. 

Jacob hesitated, then he answered slowly: 

“I don’t think Rad cared much. You see he 
feels very sore about the way he has been 
treated. But when I told him what we wanted 
with an affidavit from him, he sprang up and 
almost upset the canoe. We were outside, you 
know, and the steamer was bearing down on 
us fast.” 

“ 1 Jacob,’ said he, ‘if you really want to 
fetch old Hiram to his knees, von shall have it, 
if I never do another thing on earth. Why, 
boy, ’ he added, ‘ I wouldn ’t miss giving you that 
affidavit for anything. It seems a little like re- 
venge. ’ 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


251 


“So I think as soon as the steamer reaches 
Key West or Havana, he will send it on. Then, 
if Uncle Hiram proves to be stubborn, we will 
find a way to make him produce that deed, if he 
really knows where it is. Rad says he undoubt- 
edly does.” 

As may be imagined, the mails were watched 
rather anxiously at the Ehrich mansion for a 
week or more. At last there arrived a bulky 
packet bearing a Cuban postmark. 

It included, besides the affidavit— which was 
attested before the American consul at Havana 
—a long letter from Gillis, full of expressions 
of gratitude, and intimating a determination 
to make a better man of himself, in spite of the 
past. 

“Now, mother,” said Jacob, the following 
morning, at the breakfast table, ‘ ‘ I am going up 
to town. I hope, when I return, to have things 
in such shape that we will he able to hold up our 
heads before these proud sea island people. I 
also want to prove to Paul that my protesta- 


252 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


tions of good feeling are not based on words 
alone . 9 9 

‘ ‘ Folks may say wliat they will, Jacob. I 
know what kind of a son I have,” replied Mrs. 
Ehrich, fondly, 

‘ 4 What are yon talking about, mother ? 9 9 pro- 
tested Sidney, feeling as if he were in some way 
ignored. c 6 Ain’t you got me, too? What’s the 
matter with your little Sid, anyhow ? ’ ’ 

“You are all right— as far as cheek is con- 
cerned,” commented Jacob, laughing. 

“Hush, Jacob!” reproved the mother, gen- 
tly. Then she added, more anxiously, ‘ ‘ I hope— 
no matter what Uncle Hiram says— that you 
will be easy with him. He is your own father ’s 
brother, remember.” 

“I won’t forget,” assured the youth, as he 
put on his light overcoat and carefully pock- 
eted the essential document. “I hope, though, 
Uncle Hiram won’t forget that I am the son of 
his own brother.” 

Then he kissed his mother, ran down to the 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


253 


wharf and was rowed across by a negro to the 
path leading to the steamer landing. 

Some hours later he was seated in Hir 
Ehrich’s back office, waiting while his uncle — 
in the store — tried to sell a five dollar watch for 
twice its worth to a countryman from the 
“piney woods” district. 

At last the old man came in, leaving the sales- 
room in charge of a clerk. He was out of hu- 
mor, for the countryman would not buy, but 
had crossed over to the establishment of a rival 
opposite. 

At the rear of the office a large safe opened 
out of the wall, wherein were stowed the jew- 
elry and other specially valued articles taken in 
through the pawnbroking branch of the busi- 
ness. 

At one side was a dark wareroom, where the 
walls were lined with pigeon-holes. In these 
were packed the clothing, tools, instruments, 
bric-a-brac and other kinds of goods taken in as 
pledges for money advanced. 


254 


SEA ISLAND BOYS, 


The whole place smelled of old clothes, moth 
preventive and general mnstiness. 

Uncle Hiram, glowering at Jacob through 
old-fashioned spectacles as he stood at a high, 
narrow desk, and dressed in rusty, ill-fitting 
habiliments, fully looked his part as the presid- 
ing genius of such a place. 

“Well, what is it, Jake? You know Monday 
is one of my busy days. I work, work all the 
time. But there is precious little money coming 
in. People are getting to want too much. When 
I fairly give a man a remarkably cheap bar- 
gain, he wants me to throw in something to 
boot. Next they will want watches and good 
all-wool clothes for nothing— absolutely noth- 
ing. ’ ’ 

“Do you sell your goods at a loss, uncle?” 

“So help me, yes! There was a watch— pat- 
ent lever, full jeweled, fine movement, gold 
case— ah! it is a beauty. But that fool of a 
cracker couldn’t see it, though I offered it to 
him for a song— a mere song. I shall go to the 



All three shouted with a vigor born of desperation 

(Page 310) 




SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


255 


poorhouse yet, Jake. But what do you want? 
Is anything going wrong at the works ?” 

“Everything has gone wrong, uncle. It has 
never gone right since we took the Bugle Point 
property. ’ 9 

“My stars !” Hiram stared at his nephew in 
perplexity. “What do you mean? I suppose 
those negroes are trying to run things to suit 
themselves since my brother died. Well, well! 
I will go down in a day or two. They won’t run 
over me, Jake. I’ll fix ’em. We will pull their 
wages down a little, and see how they like that. 
Eh, Jake, my boy?” 

Uncle Hiram chuckled with returning good 
humor, but his pleasant vein was crossed some- 
what by his nephew’s next remark. 

“We will not lower the wages, uncle. I think 
they are too low as it is.” 

“You don’t say! You will ruin yourself, Jake. 
But I will fix things when I go down. You trust 
to your uncle. If there is money to be made, old 
Hiram Ehrich wiH find the way. ’ ’ 

“You mistake what I mean.” Jacob spoke 


256 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


firmly, for he felt that the crisis might as well be 
precipitated as not. “The reason things don’t 
go well down there is because we all began 
wrong. I am determined now to begin right.” 

“That is all very well, Jake ; but yon must cut 
down expenses first . 9 7 

“I must first get possession of the original 
grant of the Bugle Point plantation from the 
State. That is what I am after up here now.” 

“How, Jake? My gracious me! Is the boy 
crazy?” 

Uncle Hiram took two quick turns across the 
small room, then fell into a chair and stared at 
Jacob, as if he had just discovered his nephew 
to be a dime museum freak. 

“I am not crazy, unless it makes one crazy 
to try to do right. I may seem bereft of rea- 
son, according to your standards, Uncle Hiram ; 
but I am making sure of my ground as I go.” 

“Oh, you are! This is what comes of omit- 
ting to make me your guardian. If I had only 
known what Brother Sidney was up to, I would 
never have witnessed that codicil.” 

“What is the use of all this talk?” Jacob felt 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


257 


out of patience with this narrow-souled, money- 
worshiping old man. “Unless Bugle Point was 
rightfully conveyed to father, it is not rightfully 
mine. ’ 9 

“This is some of that Bad Gillis’ work, I 
know. Brother Sidney told me, only the morn- 
ing he died, that Bad had told you lies. ,, 

‘ 4 Bad did not tell lies. He told the truth. He 
had nothing to gain by lying, and he had much 
to gain by telling the truth. I know all about 
how father, influenced by you, came into pos- 
session of Bugle Point. Father acknowledged 
it to me. He even said that the wrong should be 
righted. And to make that more sure, he left 
the place to me, knowing I would carry out his 
last suggestions.” 

“Carry out a fiddlestick! Why, Jake, if you 
give up Bugle Point, you will be without a dol- 
lar. Why should you make a pauper of your- 
self to please those Boanoaks? I dare say they 
cannot buy it back, even if you were to offer it at 
costs, for all their blue blood and insolent ways. ,f 

“I don’t think of that at all, uncle. I only 


258 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


remember that they would have redeemed it 
once, if Bad had not stolen the old deed and 
given it to yon and father. You have it now ; or, 
at least, you know where it is. I want it, and I 
am going to have it, too ! ’ ’ 

“Oh, you want it, do you, Jake?” Uncle 
Hiram’s small eyes grew dark with anger. “I 
think I see you getting it and ruining yourself, 
out of sheer moral idiocy. Ha, yes ! I think I 
see you doing that very same thing, Jake.” 
Then changing his tone from satirical humor to 
a shrill, savage vindictiveness, “But you won’t 
do it while I am here. Not much you won’t ! I 
will see to it that you do not have it in your 
power to rob our family by ruining yourself.” 

The idea of Jacob surrendering Bugle Point 
seemed so preposterous to the avaricious old 
man, that he emitted a shrill scream of mirthless 
laughter. Then, whirling short around, he shook 
a lean finger in Jacob’s face. 

“You ought to be whipped— that is what you 
deserve, Jake! What do you know about the 
value of money?” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


259 


“I know that the value of honesty is greater 
than the value of gold. I don’t want Bugle 
Point Under the terms through which we hold it, 
and I won’t have it. So, there !” 

4 4 Tut, tut ! How are you going to help your- 
self?” The old man suddenly smiled, with ex- 
aggerated sweetness. 4 4 1 say nothing about that 
deed. Rad Gillis lied. I guess you will have 
some trouble to make the Roanoaks take hack 
or pay for a place without that deed. Perhaps 
there never was any such deed.” 

4 4 Oh, yes, there was! Father said so. You 
had better give it up, uncle. ’ ’ 

4 4 And suffer you to make an everlasting fool 
of yourself? Not much, Jake ! It will be a cold 
day when you get left, through your Uncle 
Hiram’s help.” 

4 4 Then there is nothing for it hut to find a way 
to make you give it up. ’ ’ 

Jacob took out a folded document and opened 
it deliberately. 

4 4 Read that, uncle,” said he; 4 4 then refuse 
what I ask you, if you dare!” 


CHAPTER XX. 


JACOB IS PERSISTENT— A LETTER FROM THE LAWYER. 

The old man took the paper and held it close 
to his eyes. Then he paused, wiped his glasses 
and sent little darting glances to and fro 
through the document, until he reached the sig- 
natures at the bottom. 

“ Radnor Gillis— American consul— Havana 
— m-m-h! Witnessed and sealed, too.” He 
looked up at Jacob, sharply. “Is Rad out of the 
country, Jake?” 

“I put him on the Havana steamer myself. 
Do you intend to face that paper in court, 
uncle ? ’ ’ 

“No, I don ’t, Jake.” Old Hiram suddenly 
tore the document into ribbons. “Not much I 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


261 


don , t! It is much easier to dispose of it this 
way . 9 9 

He threw the fragments into the grate, and as 
the document burned, looked at his nephew with 
the evil glitter still strong in his eye, and with a 
smile on his lips that was more disagreeable to 
Jacob than a frown would have been. 

“Now what are you going to do? Gillis will 
never come back, he loves his liberty too well. 
You do not know where he has gone. So, where 
are you— see?” 

“No, I don’t see. Did you think I was fool 
enough to trust you with the original of Rad’s 
affidavit? Not much. That is only a copy. I 
had it done at the Spanish Consul’s as I came 
along. The ink was hardly dry on it. If you 
were not so near-sighted, uncle, you could hard- 
ly have failed to notice that it was only a copy.” 

The old man sank into a chair again. Even 
in his disappointment he seemed struck by 
Jacob’s shrewdness in outwitting him thus. 
Probably this feeling strengthened a sudden 


262 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


inkling that dawned npon him, as to the useless- 
ness of further contention. 

After all, it was not so easy to pull the wool 
over Jake’s eyes. But what a pity that so sharp 
a lad should be so hopelessly given over to sim- 
ply ruining himself! Under these reflections, 
Uncle Hiram’s lean figure gradually collapsed. 
He looked at his nephew with a sort of entreaty 
in his hard, little eyes. 

* ‘ That was a tough move, Jake— tough on 
your uncle. I didn’t think you had it in you. 
But— come now, my boy; why not listen to rea- 
son?” 

“ I have gone over it all fully, and my mind 
is made up. You know I don’t want to injure 
you, uncle, but I must have that deed.” 

1 ‘ Oh, J ake ! I may be ruined if — if — ’ ’ 

He paused, and eyed Jacob with such mean- 
ing that the youth interposed with : 

“No one shall know how the deed was found. 
Trust me for that.” 

“Well, then, Jake, I suppose I must.” He 
went to the great safe, opened a smaller one, 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


263 


and, after fumbling among some documents, re- 
turned with one that was yellow with age. 

4 1 Here it is. You promise me now, that I shall 
hear nothing more of Rad and his confession— 
all lies, of course— yet— ” 

“I promise. You know you may depend on 
me. ’ 9 J acob seized the paper and scrutinized it 
carefully, feeling that Uncle Hiram was none 
too good to repeat Jacob ’s own feat of substitu- 
tion. “I am glad you have done this uncle. It 
will give me a chance to right matters at last. 
I had rather pick rags in the street for a living 
than get rich at Bugle Point as things are at 
present between us and the rightful owners .’ 9 

“All bosh, my dear boy. You will feel dif- 
ferently by-and-by, and you will say, then, that 
old Hiram was right. That’s what you will say, 
Jake.” 

But Jacob shook his head as he bade his uncle 
good-by. 

The old man, now that the transfer had been 
accomplished, seemed more saddened than 
angry. A lingering uneasiness, that was more a 


264 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


habit of nature than caused by real suspicion, 
was also observable. But be bad greater con- 
fidence in Jacob’s truthfulness than in the lad’s 
financial judgment. 

On the steamer, Jacob felt lighter at heart 
than he bad done for a long time previously. At 
last it was fully in bis power to place the Ebricb 
family aright before the world, by an act which 
was as purely honorable as it was unselfish and 
unique. 

That night, when be told bis mother of the 
events attendant on securing the deed, Sid, who 
was present, listened open-mouthed, but scorn- 
ful. 

“See here, mother,” said this youthful skep- 
tic, “is Jake going to give up Bugle Point just 
because he wants to ? ” 

“He gives it up because he feels that it right- 
fully belongs to the Roanoaks, after they pay 
some hack taxes and other expenses that your 
father incurred when the place came into his 
hands.” 

“And he don’t have to give it up?” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


265 


“No, lie doesn’t have to. He only wants to 
do what is right. ’ 9 

“Huh!” Sid turned on his heel, derisively. 
“I just know that father wouldn’t do no such 
way, if he was alive. I don’t believe in no such 
way, myself. Bet your life, no one don’t get 
what I ’m to have. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 1 don ’t believe they will, Sid. But you and 
I are two different persons, you know,” re- 
marked Jacob, quietly. 

So it happened that a day or two later Paul 
Roanoak brought a letter from the Waccamaw 
post office, addressed to the squire. It bore a 
Charleston postmark, and also the return ad- 
dress of a lawyer named Esmond. The squire 
put on his eyeglasses, and scowled when he ob- 
served the name. 

“Is not that Sidney Ehrich’s lawyer!” he 
asked of Miss Europa. 

“I am sure I don’t know. The concerns of 
those people are of so little importance, that I 
remember almost nothing, James.” 


266 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“I think Jacob said— ” began Paul; then he 
stopped. 

The squire’s scorn and wrath rose at once. 

“You think Jacob said! What business is it 
of yours what they say?” 

“I only meant that their family lawyer’s 
name is Esmond. ’ ’ 

“And this Jacob told you, so I suppose. If 
you were a true Roanoak, you would have noth- 
ing to do with those people. Family lawyer! 
Faugh! What business have such folks with 
family lawyers ? ’ ’ He turned to his sister, sure 
there of a sympathetic auditor. “I tell you, 
Europa, we are all going to the dogs. When the 
bottom rail gets on top, and is helped by our 
children to stay there, it is time for such old 
fogies as you and me to slide into our graves 
and be forgotten.” 

“Now, father—” began Paul. 

But here the door opened, and in came Sona 
and Edgar Legare, fresh from a morning ride 
from their own home. 

“Howdy, Uncle James? Howdy, aunty?” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


267 


Sona kissed them both, while Edgar, just from 
town the day before, shook hands all around. 

i ‘ What are you going on about, Uncle 
J ames 1 ’ ’ continued Sona, gaily. ‘ ‘ It is too love- 
ly a day to quarrel about anything, I think.’ ’ 

“ Perhaps you had better read the letter, 
James,” suggested Aunt Europa. “If it is any- 
thing disagreeable, we will have it over with 
and out of the way.” 

While the others chatted together, the squire, 
still glowering and grumbling, opened the mis- 
sive and began to read ; but as he proceeded the 
gradual change of countenance he underwent 
was so complete and unusual, that the others 
noticed it with growing wonder. 

“Is anything really wrong, James?” asked 
Aunt Europa, anxiously. 

The squire sat staring at the letter in a help- 
less sort of way. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “It looks all 
right; but it may be some new trickery they’re 
up to. Read it aloud, Edgar. You may be able 
to see through it better than I. ’ ’ 


268 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


So Legare, taking the letter, read as follows : 
“ James Roanoak, Esq., 

“Roanoak Hall, Waccamaw, S. C. 
i ‘ Dear Sir: Since the recent death of my 
client, Sidney Ehrich, a general search has 
taken place through his papers, and there has 
been a straightening out of his affairs, which 
were much complicated. During this, evidence 
has come to light which convinces his oldest son 
that there was an injustice done you in the man- 
ner of the transfer of the Bugle Point planta- 
tion to Mr. Ehrich, now deceased. 

“By the terms of Mr. Ehrich ’s will, his son 
Jacob becomes full owner and possessor of all 
his father’s rights in said plantation and its ap- 
purtenances. It is his desire, without reflecting 
in any manner upon his father’s conduct, to 
right, so far as lies in his power, the wrong 
which may have been done to your interests by 
Mr. Ehrich ’s retention of the property. Jacob, 
though a minor, is supported in this matter by 
Mrs. Ehrich, and no hindrance will be given by 
any other member of the family. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


269 


“He therefore desires me to ask you— either 
in person or by some authorized representative 
—to meet him at my office in Charleston at 
whatever time will best suit your convenience, 
in order to adjust these matters in a manner 
which, I trust, may prove satisfactory to both 
parties therein concerned. 

“I am, very respectfully, 

“Your obedient servant, 

“Hugo Esmond, 

“Attorney at Law.” 

“There! What do you think of that?” de- 
manded the squire of the listeners generally, as 
Legare handed him back the letter. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

AT THE LAWYER^ OFFICE. 

For a moment no one spoke. Sona’s cheeks 
began to glow softly, and, as her eye met Paul’s, 
the boy could restrain himself no longer. 

“I think Jacob is a brick, father,” he ex- 
claimed. “I always felt that, if he had half a 
chance, he would show the makings of a gentle- 
man. 9 9 

“Oh, Paul!” ejaculated Sona, while her ar- 
dent eyes spoke further for her, as confirming 
every word Paul had uttered. 

“T-s-s-h!” Squire Roanoak’s manner ex- 
pressed both scorn and derision. “I would as 
soon trust a rattlesnake as an Ehrich. I shall 
give no heed to his letter. It is some new trick. 
What do you think, Legare ? 9 9 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


271 


“It may be,” said Legare, cautiously. “But 
I would see what he means. There is no harm 
in that. You need not go yourself, you know.” 

“I should say not. It hardly seems worth 
bothering about to me. They swindled us out 
of Bugle Point, and they doubtless have some 
other scheme in view now. But, if you think 
best, I will authorize you to see Esmond. You 
are in town, and you need commit yourself to 
nothing. Will it be too much trouble?” 

“Of course not. You can write to Esmond, 
saying that I will call on him next Friday. ’ 9 

“Not on Friday!” interrupted Sona, “Say 
some other day.” 

“Well, Thursday,” laughed Edgar. “How 
will that do, Miss Superstition!” 

“Much better. And perhaps Paul and I will 
run up to town and look in on you— just to see 
fair play, you know.” 

“You and Paul had better stay here,” said 
the squire. “You think too much of those Eh- 
richs already.” 


272 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“And I see no harm in doing so, as far as 
Jacob is concerned, at least.” 

And Sona danced out of the rooms to avoid 
the wrathful answer that she foresaw would 
follow. 

Paul also went, and the conversation soon 
changed, the squire agreeing to post a letter to 
the lawyer on that same day. 

When the steamer made her usual return trip, 
Legare was on board. He seldom was able to 
remain longer than a day or two from his paper. 

On the following Thursday, he was getting 
ready to go over to Esmond’s office, when he 
was joined by Paul and Sona. 

“We were late for the steamer,” said the 
girl; “so what do you think we did?” 

“You ought to have stayed at home,” replied 
her brother, slightly irritated at his sister’s ap- 
pearance. 

“Oh, no, we hadn’t ! Paul and I are going to 
see this thing through. We came up on an oyster 
boat. And we made a bet— didn’t we, Paul?” 

“Worse and worse!” Legare laughed, how- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


273 


ever, as he added, ‘ ‘ I suppose you bet on J acob. ’ ’ 

6 6 That we did! If he does what is right, you 
pay.” 

“I pay ! This is another swindle. What have 
I to do with your bets I ’ ’ 

Edgar’s manner was one of pretended sur- 
prise. 

“Well, brother, you know you would bet 
against the poor fellow, if you bet at all. But 
we are going with you, anyhow. ’ ’ 

“Come along, then. It is time I was at the 
lawyer ’s. ’ ’ 

The three left the newspaper office, and were 
soon ushered into Mr. Esmond’s private consul- 
tation-room, where the lawyer and Jacob Eh- 
rich were seated, inspecting rather closely a 
faded parchment with antiquated-looking seals 
attached. Mr. Esmond folded this up and laid 
it aside as he rose to greet Legare. When all 
were seated, he asked, rather formally: 

“I suppose you have met young Ehrich be- 
fore?” 

Jacob had bowed to the three in a grave, dis- 


274 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


tant way, though his eyes lighted up at sight of 
Paul and Sona. Legare admitted that he knew 
Jacob; then the lawyer proceeded at once to 
business. 

“ Certain things have come to the knowledge 
of my young client recently. It is not necessary 
to say more about them than that he desires to 
make amends for the neglect of his father. This 
he does unreservedly, without attaching any 
conditions whatever to the form of restitution 
but one. And that is that there shall be no im- 
pugning or investigating anything that his 
father or uncle may be supposed to have done. 
My client thinks that Squire Roanoak will not 
hesitate to accept this offer, as the advantages 
thereby accruing will lie wholly on the Roanoak 
side of the question. Do I make myself clear?” 

“In a general way— yes,” said Legare, re- 
servedly. “I suppose you are referring to the 
Roanoak claim to Bugle Point?” 

“Precisely! In short, Jacob thinks a wrong 
has been done to Squire Roanoak. He* does not 
want to enter into a discussion of the motives or 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


275 


causes that resulted in that wrong. He simply 
wants to make such amends as he can, without 
having anything said more than the acceptance 
or rejection of his offer.” 

“What does he offer? I am authorized on 
the part of Squire Roanoak to express his wishes 
in anything relating to the property mentioned 
in your letter.” 

“He offers to give up the property to Squire 
Roanoak unreservedly, and without any prelim- 
inary condition attached. Under the terms of 
his father’s will, he has the right to do this.” 

Paul and Sona looked at each other. Then 
Sona clasped her hands. 

“Oh, Jacob—” she began, impulsively, then 
stopped, flushed red, and lowered her eyes be- 
fore Edgar’s rebuking glance. 

“After this is done, and Squire Roanoak is 
in full possession, if he thinks he owes the estate 
of Sidney Ehrich anything on account of moneys 
expended, or for the phosphate works erected 
by my client’s father, my client is prepared to 


276 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


accept, and be satisfied with any sum which 
Squire Roanoak thinks he ought to pay. ’ ’ 

Mr. Esmond paused to let his words have due 
weight, then resumed: 

‘ ‘ I deem it necessary to state here that I have 
advised my young client against such an unre- 
served renunciation of all his own claims, which 
are considerable. The place is much more val- 
uable now than before Mr. Ehrich took hold. I 
have told him that, notwithstanding any injus- 
tice that may have formerly been done, he him- 
self is hardly responsible for the present state 
of things. This property is all he has in the 
world. He had better stipulate beforehand for 
a proper estimate as to what would be due to 
him in case the property is transferred to its 
former owners. But he will not adopt my sug- 
gestions, and has instructed me to make to you 
the offer I have now done. Do I correctly state 
your views, Jacob ?” 

“Yes— all but the deed,” said Jacob, in a low 
tone. “It, too, must go with the rest.” 

“Well, I don't approve of it, mind; but— just 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


277 


as you say.” Mr. Esmond looked disgusted. 
“It is very irregular. There was an old deed, 
Mr. Legare. Perhaps you have heard of such 
a document?” 

“Yes— the old State grant, I suppose you 
mean. I have heard my uncle bemoan its loss. 
It wrns, I think, lost during the war, or the trou- 
blesome era succeeding that contest. Some say 
it was stolen—” 

‘ ‘ At all events, here it is. ’ ’ Mr. Esmond spoke 
with emphasis, at the same time handing to 
Legare the time-stained parchment, with the 
antiquated seals attached. “You can take it to 
Squire Roanoak as an evidence of the sincerity 
of my client ’s intentions. ’ ’ 

While Legare was inspecting the document, 
Paul walked over and gave Jacob his hand. The 
two boys gazed at each other like long-separated 
friends. Jacob felt that his reward was already 
beginning. 

“I understand, now, what you were hinting 
at the other day,” said Paul. “Jacob, this is 


278 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


the noblest thing I ever heard of. We- bnt 
what is the nse of talking ?” 

“It is not much,” said Jacob. “At least it 
seems to me only like doing the right thing— or 
what ought to have been done long ago.” 

Sona sat with her eyes fixed on Jacob. They 
were gradually filling, but she dashed the tears 
aside with a hasty movement. 

“Is it all you really have, Jacob?” she asked, 
in a low tone. “The Bugle Point property, I 
mean.” 

“No, Miss Sona.” Jacob smiled. “I have 
good health, two hands and a will to work. That 
is a great deal more, I think.” 

Meanwhile, Legare and the lawyer had been 
conferring apart. At the conclusion Legare 
came over to where Jacob was standing. 

“I will give this deed to Squire Boanoak, 
since you wish me to, ’ ’ said he to Ehrich. ‘ ‘ But, 
though I was somewhat prejudiced against your 
family for reasons which you doubtless recall, 
still I concur with Mr. Esmond in this, that you 
should not surrender too much absolutely, not 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


279 


even to right a wrong. The squire will doubt- 
less do what is just. But you had better con- 
cede only what you have to— at first. I am 
bound to say you may make better terms— ” 

“No, no,” interrupted young Ehrich. “I 
have set my heart on having my way in this. 
Do not think that I have not counted the cost. 
My mother is with me. Give me at least the sat- 
isfaction of making myself poor in my own man- 
ner. It is not money, but respect, regard, that I 
am after.” 

Legare was won over at last. He, too, shook 
Jacob’s hand warmly. 

“You may rely on all I can do to see that your 
individual interests do not suffer any more than 
can be helped. I say more, Jacob. You may 
count on me as a friend— that is, if you now care 
for me to be one.” 

Jacob felt gratified, of course. In the days to 
come, when he would have to work for a living, 
perhaps Legare would help him into some kind 
of literary or journalistic employment. 


280 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


“By the way, Jacob,’ ’ said Legare, as Paul, 
Sona and he were leaving, “we are to have a 
general picnic and fish-fry at Loon Beach on 
Thanksgiving Day. I am one of the committee 
of management. If you will accept an invita- 
tion for yourself and family, I shall be glad to 
give you one.” 

Jacob knew that his father would have striven 
for such a social acknowledgment with all his 
might. It had come to him without his wish. In 
fact, he felt indifferent, but Sona here broke in 
with: 

“Of course you will accept, won’t you, Jacobi 
Think how disappointed we shall all be if you 
don’t. I know some of the girls are dying to 
take a sail in the Sylph. ’ ’ 

“Oh, well,” laughed Ehrich, “if you put it 
in that way I must say yes, I suppose. It would 
never do to let those girls die. How many are 
there besides you, Sona?” 

“You ridiculous boy! Don’t you know that 
you ought to be immensely grateful instead of 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


281 


critical? Paul, let us go before he changes his 
mind. ’ ’ 

And they followed Legare to the elevator, 
laughing and joking. Indeed, the spirits of all 
the party appeared to have been raised, some- 
how, by what had occurred. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


THE SQUIRE COMES ROUND— A NEW PARTNERSHIP. 

When Jacob returned to Bugle Point, the fol- 
lowing day, he found a letter there from Squire 
Roanoak. In it the squire thanked him in a for- 
mal way for the receipt of the old deed, and said 
that his own lawyer would communicate with 
Mr. Esmond in regard to the matters between 
the two families relating to Bugle Point. 

There was a penciled postscript from Paul, 
evidently added without the squire ’s knowledge, 
for Paul often sealed and mailed his father’s 
letters. 

‘ ‘Don’t mind the governor’s manner,” it ran, 
“he can’t help it, for he never has any other 
kind. The truth is, both he and Aunt Europa 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


283 


are simply paralyzed. They can’t understand 
it, and would hardly believe it, but for that 
deed staring them in the face. But they are 
much impressed. If you care for their friend- 
ship, you have won it, in spite of themselves. 
As for myself— well, you know how I feel. 

“Be sure and come to Loon Beach on 
Thanksgiving. I shall never forgive you if you 
don’t.” 

The postscript enabled Jacob to better under- 
stand the probable spirit that prompted the let- 
ter. 

It was soon understood at the works and 
about the place that a change of ownership was 
pending. Particulars were not generally known, 
yet gossip was not less pronounced on that ac- 
count. 

The neighboring planters took the matter up. 
Some of them went to the Roanoaks for con- 
firmation or denial, but they did not learn much 
there. Once, when some one intimated that the 
Ehrichs were probably only doing what they 
were compelled to do, and that the squire must 


284 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


have been grossly swindled by the deceased Eli- 
rich, the squire flew into a rage and told bis in- 
terlocutor to mind bis own business. 

‘ ‘ I confess, ’ ’ be added, ‘ ‘ that I once did enter- 
tain prejudices against the family; but I have 
changed my mind, sir. Young Ehricb is a gen- 
tleman at heart, if not by blood, and that is say- 
ing a good deal for any man. I feel deeply in- 
debted to bis honor and honesty and thorough 
unselfishness. ’ ’ 

During the interval elapsing between the 
Charleston episode of the previous chapter and 
the Loon Beach fish fry, Sona managed to sing 
Jacob’s praises— or, rather, the perfections of 
the Sylph— to so many of the girls around, that 
it seemed likely Jacob would be overwhelmed 
with solicitations for boat rides on that occasion. 

Meantime, the lawyers had been at work. Both 
Jacob and his mother made a trip to Charles- 
ton, where they met Squire Roanoak at the office 
of the latter’s lawyer. 

A general arrangement was effected, satis- 
factory to all parties. The squire, once his dis- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


285 


trust was changed into confidence, would not be 
outdone by Jacob in liberality. When it came 
to the phosphate works, be said : 

“It is not right that we should own or run 
these works entirely by ourselves. Probably 
they might never have been started, if the place 
had remained in our hands all the time. Re- 
garding this, I have now a proposal to make. 
Before doing so, however, I will state that all 
the members of my family concur with me in 
what I am going to say.” 

“Bet your life, father, I do !” said Paul, sotto 
voce , for he also was present. 

“I understand that young Ehrich, here, has 
voluntarily left himself without either capital or 
an occupation by this transfer of property,” 
continued the squire. ‘ ‘ I honor him for his mo- 
tives, and I offer him an equal partnership with 
my son Paul in running and managing the phos- 
phate works at Bugle Point.” 

The squire delivered himself of the foregoing 
in rather a Websterian manner, then looked 


286 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


smilingly around him for some expression of 
approbation. 

Jacob, who was expecting nothing of the 
sort, was listening quite unconcernedly, until 
the last words of the squire ’s aroused his atten- 
tion. Then he flushed, glanced quickly at Paul 
and grasped the hand of the usually haughty, 
hut now amiable-looking old gentleman. 

“This is very good of you, sir; very good, 
indeed, ’ ’ he exclaimed. 4 4 But I have done noth- 
ing to merit such indulgence. What I am doing 
now is only an act of justice, too long delayed. 
Much as I appreciate your offer, I fear— I fear 
that it— it would hardly be right for me to— to 
go in with Paul. ’ ’ 

‘ 1 J acob, I did not think you would kick at the 
notion of being partners with me in anything.’ ’ 

“Of course not, Paul. I would rather black 
boots with you than eat turtle soup with some 
fellows. It isn’t that, nor it isn’t lack of grati- 
tude that keeps me from jumping at Squire 
Roanoak’s generous offer.” 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


287 


‘ ‘ Well, what is it, then?” asked the squire, 
good-naturedly, yet slightly perplexed. 

“I must not take things like that as a gift, 
don’t you see?” Jacob smiled as he explained. 
4 1 1 have done nothing to merit being taken in as 
a partner, and I have no capital now. ’ ’ 

“ Jacob,” interposed Mr. Esmond, “you seem 
to forget that certain money is due you because 
of what your father expended on the property. 
The back taxes and other legal expenses amount 
to more than two thousand dollars. Squire 
Roanoak, had he retained the place, would have 
had to pay this. Then there are the works built 
with your father’s money and under his man- 
agement. It is only right that you should be 
recompensed for that outlay. In fact, I feel 
safe in saying that what is rightfully due you as 
your father’s heir is well worth a half interest 
in the works, if not more.” 

Here Mr. Esmond looked inquiringly at the 
squire ’s lawyer, who nodded affirmatively, while 
the squire said, in his sharp way : 

“Hang it all, sir! If Jacob refuses my offer, 


288 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


I will sell the works to an outsider, and pay his 
claim np in money thns acquired. So, my boy, 
you will get a share of them whether or no.” 

4 4 Besides, Jacob, think how disappointed I 
shall he if I fail to get something to do myself,” 
said Paul, half jocularly, yet with a tinge of 
earnestness. 4 4 Father has been studying over 
what he calls a career for ever so long. He and 
Aunt Europa are always worrying about what 
to do with me. They won ’t let me go for a clerk 
or a salesman, or anything of that kind. There 
is no fighting going on, so I can’t go for a sol- 
dier. And now that this last chance offers itself 
through your great generosity, it seems a pity 
that you should kick over the good thing which 
you alone have made possible for me. You see 
how selfish I am. ’ ’ 

4 4 No, you’re not, Paul.” Jacob seized Paul’s 
hand. 4 4 You are one of the best fellows I know, 
and as long as you put it in that way, I suppose 
I will have to say yes. I feel though that Squire 
Roanoak is doing better by me than I should ex- 
pect, notwithstanding all Mr. Esmond said. If 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


289 


we go in together, Paul, I hope you will find me 
as good a business partner as I have found you 
a true friend. ’ ’ 

While the juniors gushed over each other 
with the volatile enthusiasm of eighteen, the 
older ones completed the legal requirements that 
were essential to make valid the new relations 
subsisting between the Roanoaks and the Eh- 
richs. 

After the necessary signatures and attesta- 
tions, Paul drew Jacob out of the office, saying: 

“Let us get away, Jacob,’ ’ and he laughed 
gaily. 4 1 I want to have a walk and a talk. All 
that lawyer business makes me tired. And yet 
Aunt Europa was set for a while on my studying 
law. ’ ’ 

“I always felt as if I would like to be in the 
literary or journalistic line,” said Jacob. “In- 
stead of law and literature, I suppose we will 
grind up old bones for a living the rest of our 
days. Don’t things come about queenly?” 

Both the boys laughed. They felt in a gay 
humor, and were disposed to laugh at anything 


290 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


that could be by any means twisted into a comic 
light. Jacob led Paul down by the sea wall, 
where the Sylph lay. 

“Will you go back in her with me?” he asked. 

‘ ‘ Indeed I will ! I suppose we can send back 
the old folks by the steamer?” 

“Certainly. Then let us hurry matters and 
be off. If we are spry, we can catch the ebb. It 
must be about slack water now.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


AT LOON BEACH — THE BOAT RACE. 

Thanksgiving Day did not belie the promise 
implied in the good weather that had for a week 
preceded it— that is, it opened well. 

The snn rose in a cloudless sky. The wind 
was equable. The pines murmured contented- 
ly amid their polished needles, and the palmettos 
rattled their immense leaves as the wind swung 
them to and fro. 

Mocking bird and jay were in the scrub 
thickets of Loon Beach, rejoicing musically over 
the unusual mildness of the season. 

The sea islanders reveled in the prolonged 
beauty of the Indian summer. Houses were 
thrown open, and people lived mostly in their 
broad halls and piazzas. 


292 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


They sallied forth on the morning of the day 
for the picnic in carriages and on horseback. 
At the various landing places, boats rowed by 
dusky oarsmen bore them across the sound to 
Loon Beach. Besides these, many went entirely 
by water in their own sailing craft. 

Jacob Ehrich carried his mother, Sid and him- 
self on board the Sylph. At the landing near 
the picnic ground, as the Sylph luffed, prepara- 
tory to casting anchor, a long canoe, clumsily 
rowed by negroes, forged athwart her bow. A 
collision seemed imminent. Jacob seized a pole 
and pushed the Sylph sharply back. As he did 
so, the canoe glided under his boom. The first 
face visible from beneath the Sylph’s swinging 
sail was that of Squire Roanoak. It was red 
with sudden choler. 

* 1 Have a care, sir ! ” called the squire. 1 ‘ Can 
you not see where you are going ? ’ ’ 

“Why, father,” interposed Paul, “this is the 
Sylph— Jacob Ehrich ’s boat.” 

1 1 Excuse me, my lad. I am getting more near- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


293 


sighted than ever. Delighted to meet you and 
yours. ’ ’ 

“My sail prevented my seeing you in time, 
sir,” said Jacob, touching his hat to Aunt 
Europa. 

In a few minutes, every one was safely on 
shore. The grounds were now dotted with cheer- 
ful and chattering groups. Jacob found that not 
only himself, hut his mother, were received with 
a studied consideration that was peculiarly 
gratifying under the circumstances. 

Sea islanders seldom do things by halves. The 
transactions between Jacob and the Roanoaks 
had been noised about. The chivalry of the pro- 
ceedings was not lost sight of among such a 
people. 

Squire Roanoak constituted himself the 
special escort of the widow, whose scruples at 
attending such an affair were only set aside at 
Jacob’s earnest entreaty. 

“This is not an ordinary frolic,” he said to 
her. “It signifies to us that we are socially all 


294 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


right now. I think even father would approve, 
if he could let us know.” 

Of course, the mother yielded. Sid found 
ample amusement among the men and boys who 
manipulated the cast-nets and caught the fish 
that were to be fried. There were strolls along 
the beach by many, and, later on, a dinner that 
would have tempted an anchorite. By twos and 
fours, by families and otherwise, the picnickers 
sat about on the clean white sand and ate and 
ate and ate. 

Palmetto leaves served for cushions and ta- 
bles. Over their heads was a canopy of waving 
palms and the sweep of hungry gulls. These 
last kept up wild, shrill pipings as they cut the 
sunshine in swift dartings hither and thither. 

After dinner, there were more social diver- 
sions. Shells, sea-beans and toadfish were 
searched for ; old men talked politics and crops ; 
young men and boys, young women and girls, 
amused themselves as such people are apt to do 
anywhere under similar circumstances. 

After a short time a boat-race was determin- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


295 


ed on, and the more speedy craft, with their 
white sails spread, were already bowing at their 
anchors, or standing off and on not far from the 
shore of the sound, like migratory birds trying 
their wings before the final flight. 

The inner beach swept like a snowy half-moon 
along the concave landward shore of Loon 
Beach. Across this silvery crescent of water, 
the Sylph, with Jacob Ehrich, Sona Legare and 
Aunt Europa on board, bowled easily along, her 
mainsheet half slack and her huge sail quiver- 
ing at the leach. She was waiting for the fleet 
of sloops, cat-rigs and schooners to all get under 
way. 

Two hundred people from the shore were 
looking on. The contending boats were to sail 
through the inlet and out over the bar, then up 
the coast to the upper inlet, thence down the 
sound to the starting point, a distance all around 
of eight or nine miles. 

The vessels fluttered into line, a dozen or 
more in number. They were manned by 
swarthy, dark-eyed young men and boys, active 


296 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


and vigorous as their Huguenot ancestors who 
settled the Carolina coast. 

Certain young ladies, warmly wrapped, cud- 
dled themselves well to windward on some of the 
racers, and uttered little screams of fear as the 
gunwales dipped or the wind-whipped scud flew 
over the bows. 

One after another each boat got off. On shore 
a committee of elderly men, with watches out, 
took the starting time of each one separately. 
Soon a string of white sails was skimming the 
channel leading between the mangrove islands 
and Loon Beach, thence out at the inlet to the 
southern prong of the Beach. 

Rounding that through a gentle dash of 
breakers, they met the firm swell of the open 
ocean, that caused some of the smallest craft to 
hesitate and turn back. Others held on until the 
coast was well behind, then grew timorous over 
a line of purplish haze that now marked the 
northern horizon. A few of the larger boats 
kept their course bravely. Among these was the 
Sylph. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE FOG COMES DOWN — WHERE IS THE SYLPH ! 

The Sylph was well ahead and to windward of 
the others. She was carrying a single reef, and 
her mainsail was trimmed as taut and flat over 
the starboard gunwale as a board. The wind 
was hauling more eastward. 

On shore the picnickers had mostly crossed 
over to the seaward side to view the prettiest 
part of the race— a snowy line of careening sails 
creeping over a gently heaving plain of bine. 

“I am glad my daughter did not go,” said 
one matron to another. “Is it not growing a 
little colder!” 

The other agreed that it was, and both began 
looking for their wraps. 


298 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Some of the older men noticed that, though 
the sun shone with undiminished splendor, the 
mellow warmth of the air seemed to be congeal- 
ing. The purple haze in the north was assum- 
ing an ashy hue. It hugged the ocean, dense and 
apparently motionless, yet drew undeniably 
nearer. A few sea gulls swept zig-zagging in 
from sea, uttering flute-like cries. 

The remaining boats still held on stiffly. The 
Sylph was still clawing off shore as the wind 
kept veering more ahead. An old negro boat- 
man, standing near where Paul Roanoak and 
Edgar Legare were watching the race, said to 
one of his mates : 

“Dey bettqh ’gin ter reef, an’ stan’ in closter 
to sho’.” 

“Why so?” asked Legare, quickly, who had 
overheard the remark. 

“Dey’s a no’ther cornin’, sah. Marse Ehrich 
see dat, I reckon. So he holdin’ de Sylph off, so 
he can make de upper inlet dedout tackin’. But, 
laws, marse! He don’t seem ter know much 
’bout dese yere coast fogs. Dey comes ’long 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


299 


’bout time de no’ther strikes— den, whar is yon? 
Dar yon is, wropt np like a baby in a blankit, f o ’ 
yon know what’s de mattah. Dat ar Sylph, she 
bettah be huslin’ in out’n dat, or suttin’ gwine 
ter happen to her, sho ’ !” 

“Why does Jacob stay ont so far?” grnmbled 
Edgar. ‘ ‘ He knows he has ladies aboard. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps he doesn’t realize any danger,” 
answered Paul. “As Cuff says, he may not un- 
derstand our coast fogs yet. ’ ’ 

Uncle Dick Legare and the squire now came 
up. Both were growing anxious. 

‘ ‘ I will take Cuff, and run up to the bite just 
above here,” said Paul. “There is an old life- 
boat there in the station. I think the guard has 
gone to town to spend Thanksgiving. You know 
the regular crew doesn’t go on duty until the first 
of December.” 

“No, you shall not,” objected Squire Roan- 
oak, quickly. “You could never overhaul them 
with the start they have got, and you might be in 
danger yourselves.” 

A general move, however, was made on the 


300 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


part of many men to go to the upper inlet, where 
they could watch the boats come in. Paul and 
Edgar, avoiding their parents, hurried away, 
and soon reached the deserted life-station. 

While no clouds were yet distinctly visible, a 
silvery film was being woven about the sun. The 
chill in the air increased. The ocean blue took 
on a steely glitter, and the cabbage-palms shiv- 
ered sharply as they turned their under sides to 
the wind. 

At the upper inlet a broad ship channel swept 
by, with a touch of breakers on the bar. An in- 
ward-bound steamer, one of the ocean-tramp 
ships, was in the offing. 

While Edgar and Paul were at the deserted 
life-station, Cuff and one of his mates came 
along. 

‘ ‘ Hurrah, Cuff ! ’ ’ cried Paul. ‘ ‘ Let us launch 
the life-boat. WTien the norther strikes there 
may be a capsize. The Sylph is so far out she 
might swamp before she could reach shore.’ ’ 

But while Paul was speaking, Cuff shook his 
head and pointed to the north. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


301 


The boats, now alarmed, were making in to- 
wards the upper inlet. But the Sylph, quite a 
mile or more away, was the last to try to turn. 

Then suddenly, yet almost impalpably, the 
face of the ocean was blotted out. The racing 
boats disappeared as if by magic, and, with a 
wild howl of the rising wind, the dreaded nor- 
ther swept down upon Loon Beach in all its 
irresistible fury. 

It was impossible to launch a life-boat with 
the lack of appliances, and in the face of the 
tremendous surf that almost immediately began 
to thunder along the beach. Crowds of anxious 
people hurried forward to the inlet to watch for 
the incoming boats. 

“Look! there comes the Snipe! She is 
rounding the spit.” 

A low, dark, schooner-rigged craft swept into 
view like a race-horse, leaving a seething trail 
of brine behind. Her mainsail was down and 
her fore-peak halyards slacked, until the fore- 
sail hung loose. 

Another boat materialized, dim and ghostly, 


302 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


through the fog. Then a third and a fourth 
struggled safely round the spit, their peaks low- 
ered, sheets held in hand, and their occupants 
wet, draggled and pale. 

But where was the Sylph! 

Uncle Dick Legare and the widowed mother 
of Jacob, together with Squire Roanoak, had 
hurried forward, notwithstanding the distance, 
and now stood gazing with haggard faces into 
the blinding mist and the driving gale. 

As the occupants of the boats that had ar- 
rived came ashore they were anxiously ques- 
tioned. When seen by them the Sylph was still 
a mile further to seaward and ahead of the craft 
nearest to her. 

Jacob, evidently realizing his peril at last, 
had luffed, and was bearing towards the inlet. 
Then the wind and fog had closed in, and noth- 
ing more had been seen of the Sylph. 

It was growing late. The norther, now in full 
force, lashed the outer bar with increasing 
surges. Surely no small boat could live long 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


303 


while exposed to that immeasurable whirl of 
merciless breakers. 

At last the fog began to grow thinner. Many 
tear-softened eyes strove to penetrate the dwin- 
dling gray spaces, as parents, relatives and 
friends peered and strained their sight. 

“There!” “What is that?” “Can it be 
they?” “No.” “Yes!” “Alas!” “What a 
disappointment ! 9 1 

The flap of a gull’s wing, the crest of a dis- 
tant wave— fond illusions of dread-burdened 
hearts— that was all. 

The Sylph had disappeared. 

Night was approaching. Women and chil- 
dren must be gotten home. Both Squire Roan- 
oak and Uncle Dick Legare announced their 
purpose of remaining on the beach. Mrs. Eh- 
rich, prostrated with grief and suspense, was 
carried to the boats. Paul and Edgar, together 
with a strong party of volunteers, were to pa- 
trol the beach and try to launch the life-boat at 
the station should anything be seen. 

Fires were lighted along Loon Beach— not 


304 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


that much good was expected therefrom, hut 
that no essential precaution might be neglected. 

All night the tierce norther raged. Upon its 
wings came cold and sleet. All night long the 
squire and Uncle Dick paced a weary round of 
the gray, wet sand. 

In the early morning there came a cry along 
the beach. 

The mast of the Sylph, broken short off at the 
deck and with the boom and sundry shreds of 
rigging attached , had been washed ashore. 
Shortly thereafter a boat, manned by four ne- 
groes, rowed across the inlet from Mullet Beach, 
dragging a floating wreck. 

It was the hull of the Sylph, the thwarts gone 
and the stern crushed in like an egg-shell. The 
negroes had found it lodged at the extremity of 
a sand-spit, somewhat to the southwest of the 
lower inlet. 

‘ ‘ My poor sister V 9 ejaculated the squire, at 
this last proof of the awful probabilities indi- 
cated by this harrowing discovery. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


305 


Uncle Dick sat on the sand, with his gray 
head buried on his knees ; Paul and Edgar paced 
the beach like men half-crazed and gazed on the 
white yeast of waters and the close, dim horizon 
with aching eyes. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE WRECK OF THE SYLPH— DISAPPOINTMENT — 
THE LIGHTSHIP. 

When the norther struck the Sylph Jacob was 
greatly alarmed. Its advance, though plain 
enough to practiced eyes, was concealed from 
him by the silent, swift, yet stealthy develop- 
ment of the fog, behind which the gale masked 
itself. 

“Something is going to happen,” said Sona, 
gazing into the mist. “Perhaps we had better 
have turned toward shore sooner.” 

J acob was luffing, preparatory to coming 
about. The shore was already becoming invis- 
ible. Nearly a mile further out, on the edge of 
deep sea water, could be discerned the dim out- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


307 


line of a lightship. Five minutes later, even she 
could not be seen, so thick was the fog. 

When the first fearful blast struck them, Miss 
Europa gave a scream, and throwing herself in 
the bottom of the boat, lay there like one bereft 
of sense. 

Jacob was lowering the sail. As he stood on 
the very nose of the craft, halyards in hand, the 
seas swept over his feet. Sona pulled in on the 
main sheet. Jacob hurried hack to relieve the 
bow of his weight, and, as the Sylph fell off 
sideways, she shipped a small sea over the for- 
ward washboard that sent a barrel of water 
aboard. 

Aunt Europa shrieked again. Sona helped 
Jacob to lash the sail, which was whipping mad- 
ly along the boom. The wind howled, and the 
Sylph was pitching terribly. Even then, the 
two brave young hearts were realizing that 
their chance for safety was growing fearfully 
small. 

When the sea should rise to its full height, 
what chance would the Sylph have, in its vast 


308 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


and foaming hollows? Already the mast was 
being almost jerked ont of her. 

Jacob strove with an oar to get her head to 
leeward, bnt she pounded along sideways, ship- 
ping water faster than Sona could bail it out. 
Aunt Europa roused sufficiently to assist her 
with a tin basin. Jacob worked his oar, but to 
little purpose. 

As the general trend of the coast was east- 
northeast, the Sylph was now being driven far- 
ther out to sea in her southerly drift. At last, 
a larger wave than usual broke ov.er her quar- 
ter, drenching the occupants and rendering 
Aunt Europa again helpless with fear. 

Another sound came to their ears through the 
wild shriek of the gale ; then the dark outline of 
an incoming steamship grew into vague dis- 
tinctness about two cables’ length to windward. 

The three drenched and fear-stricken people 
screamed and waved their arms. But human 
cries went only a little way in that mad roar 
and boom of wind and surge. 

At last Sona desisted, panting for breath, and 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


309 


clung to the gunwale of the Sylph as the great 
shadowy steamship vanished. Jacob sank down 
discouraged. Aunt Europa seemed to have 
fainted. 

“Must we give up?” asked the boy, finding 
resignation more difficult than even hopeless 
struggling. 

Another sea that washed a torrent of water 
over the side was the significant reply. The 
mast snapped short off, carrying with it the sail. 

Jacob cut away the bumping 7 clinging mass 
with his boat hatchet, and the Sylph floated, a 
third full of water and totally helpless. 

About this time a hoarse, resonant sound 
arose, seemingly ahead. Then a faint yellow 
circle appeared on the face of the fog, that 
cleared and concentrated as the Sylph drifted 
on. All were startled for an instant by the un- 
earthly sound and sight. 

4 ‘ The lightship ! 1 9 suddenly cried J acob. 1 6 It 
is their fog-horn. We are dead to windward, 
too. Rouse up, Miss Sona. You too, Miss Eu- 


310 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


ropa. If we all shout, they may hear us. There 
—don’t you see her hull looming up?” 

All three shouted with a vigor horn of des- 
peration. Even Aunt Europa came out of her 
faint and screamed like a wild Indian. 

A vast dun hulk, that rose and fell in gigantic- 
undulations, heaved itself into view through the 
fog. High above was the light. From the huge 
shadow another mighty volume of sound 
clanged forth , and, as it ceased, the three 
shouted again with all their might. 

“They see us!” cried Sona. “A man on the 
bridge is pointing. We will pass very close. 
Oh, Jacob—” 

Her voice ran off into an hysterical quaver. 
The boy saw figures running to and fro dimly. 
He waved his hands. The Sylph drifted so close 
under the lightship’s stern that Jacob feared 
they would be dashed to pieces against that 
great hull. 

There came a hail, then a circling coil of rope 
shot from the vessel’s deck, that Jacob and Sona 
threw themselves upon and clutched as drown- 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


311 


ing people grasp at a spar. Jacob took a turn 
around the stump of the mast, while a voice 
from the lightship shouted : 

“Keep off! We will let you drift to leeward, 
then haul you in. ’ ’ 

This was done. The little Sylph forged past 
the towering hulk that swayed slowly as the 
small fabric of the wrecked boat was tossed up 
and down— one instant almost on a level with 
the lightship’s deck, then down, down into a sea 
trough so deep that Sona would close her eyes 
in dread of the breaking white wall of waters 
that threatened to engulf them at every plunge. 

But at last the rope was being hauled in, and 
the Sylph was towed slowly under the lee of the 
lightship’s hull. There she rose and fell more 
easily, while a sling, rigged at the end of a pow- 
erful spar— used in shipping provisions from 
the supply steamer at sea— was thrust out over 
the ship’s side, then lowered through blocks 
above. 

“Hold fast!” shouted some one on deck. 


312 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


1 ‘Sing out when you are ready for us to hoist. 
One at a time— mind/ ’ 

With some difficulty J acob fastened Aunt Eu- 
ropa into the sling. She shrieked as she felt 
herself hoisted high over the swirl of waters. 

The next instant she was on deck, surrounded 
by several sailors and an officer or two. She 
was released and assisted to the cabin below. 

Sona’s turn came next, then Jacob’s. 

As the young fellow swung clear of the Sylph, 
he could not help feeling a pang of regret as all 
that was left of his much-prized boat floated off 
and disappeared in the fog. Half an hour later, 
the whole party, much revived by warmth and 
good cheer, were able to think about the distress 
that their unknown fate would occasion to 
friends and relatives ashore. 

On being questioned, the captain of the light- 
ship said that it would be impossible to commu- 
nicate with the shore until the wind abated. 

“Our small boat would hardly live in such a 
sea,” he said. “From what the barometer in- 
dicates, though, we may have a shift of wind by 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


313 


morning. Then, perhaps, we can do some- 
thing. ’ ’ 

With this they had to remain satisfied. 

4 4 After ail , 9 ’ remarked Sona, who was always 
inclined to take a cheery view of things, “this is 
much better than the Sylph— isn’t it, Jacob V 9 

Jacob confessed that it was, but Aunt Europa 
only sighed in a dismal way. Her nervous sys- 
tem had received too great a shock to readjust 
itself at once. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


CONCLUSION. 

Coffee was made by the fires on Loon Beach. 
The wind had shifted eastward, and was much 
more moderate, though a cold, gray density of 
atmosphere hung over the ocean, obscuring the 
view on every side. This change of wind in the 
night had doubtless caused the wreck of the 
Sylph to come ashore, and thus intensify the 
distress of the waiting ones on the beach. 

The squire and Uncle Dick, having at last 
fallen into a drowse on some blankets spread 
on the sand, they were not awakened until the 
coffee was ready. 

Even so early as then, a boat came over from 
Edisto. It bore Mrs. Ehrich and Master Sid. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


315 


“I simply could not stay away,” said the 
widow, whose tear-stained face and haggard 
looks bore testimony to the fact of a sleepless 
night. 

Even Sid appeared vaguely uneasy. He was 
surprised at himself for liking Jacob so well. 
They were made to take coffee with the rest. 
But it was a cheerless, gloomy gathering. 

“Has anything been seen or heard!” fal- 
tered Mrs. Ehrich, at length, for she dreaded to 
hear the almost inevitable answer. 

But before Uncle Dick Legare could break 
the news of the finding of the Sylph, there came 
a cry from a watching group on the sand-dunes 
overlooking the beach. 

Then Paul Roanoak came running. 

4 4 A boat ! ’ ’ he shouted. 4 4 There ’s a boat com- 
ing in from the direction of the lightship!” 

They looked at each other with pallid, expec- 
tant faces. Then Squire Roanoak shook his 
head. 

4 4 We may as well be ready for the worst,” 


316 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


said he. “ There is not one chance in a hundred 
of a rescue, I fear. ’ ’ 

The group on the sand-hills now began to 
shout and gesticulate. Then Edgar Legare 
came flying to his father. He was pale almost 
to a death-like hue. 

‘ ‘ It may he them ! 9 ’ he exclaimed. 4 ‘ I am not 
sure— yet it looks as if there were women on 
board .’ 9 

At that everybody started to climb the sand- 
dunes toward the sea. Mrs. Ehrich’s limbs 
trembled. She held tight to the hand of her 
son. 

4 ‘Help me along, Sidney,” she gasped. 
“Don’t leave your mother behind.” 

Before they reached the summit of the sand- 
hills the group on top gave a great shout. 
Numbers of them disappeared, running in the 
direction of the breakers. 

"When the squire, Uncle Dick and Mrs. Eh- 
rich at last reached a point that gave them a 
view of the surf and the beach, many of their 
friends were rushing into the surf and pushing 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


317 


shoreward a boat containing several people. 

“Jacob!” cried the mother, not at once dis- 
tinguishing her son among the crowd of men. 
4 4 My J acob ! Where is he 1 ’ ’ 

Amid the wash of the breakers Jacob heard 
that loving cry, as he was borne ashore on the 
shoulders of two brawny negroes. He strug- 
gled to the beach and hurried up the sand-hills. 
Then his mother threw up her arms, ran a few 
steps, and fell upon her son’s neck. 

“Jacob,” she murmured, brokenly, “I should 
have died, too, if you had not come back. ’ ’ 

Sid, now that Jacob was seen to be safe, 
looked rather disgusted over the general “to- 
do” that was going on over the returned voy- 
agers. 

“This makes me tired!” he declared, at 
length. “Are you all crazy? I’m going to get 
out until it is over. ’ ’ 

“You young rascal!” said the squire, shak- 
ing his finger playfully at Jacob, after he had 
embraced his sister. “What a night you have 
given us all ! ” 


318 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


As for Uncle Dick, he was so overjoyed at 
possessing Sona again, that he hugged all the 
rescued ones in a comically impartial way, and 
wound up by cutting an old-fashioned pigeon- 
wing on the beach sand, while his eyes were 
filled with grateful tears. 

There was a half hour of inquiries . and mutual 
explanations, then the lightship people were re- 
warded, not only with thanks, but with a sub- 
stantial gift of hard dollars on the part of Mrs. 
Ehrich, the squire and Uncle Dick. Paul and 
Edgar also insisted upon “ chipping in,” as 
they termed it, liberally. 

“Now, I have a suggestion to make,” said 
Squire Roanoak to his neighbors and friends 
generally. “That is for all of you to go hack 
with Europa, Paul and myself, and take pot- 
luck in a dinner, that shall evince in some small 
way how thankful I feel for what has occurred 
this morning. What say, friends?” 

This proposal was generally agreed to, and 
presently a number of boats were bearing the 
party across the sound to Roanoak Hall. 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


319 


In conclusion, it may be stated that matters 
between the Ehrichs and the Roanoaks moved 
on smoothly after this. Also other families, on 
Edisto and Johns Islands, were led to consider 
the friendship of these newcomers as less ob- 
jectionable than they formerly thought it would 
be. 

The -phosphate works under the new manage- 
ment of Ehrich & Co. prospered even more than 
when Mr. Ehrich was at the helm of affairs. 
Paul developed a good business faculty, while 
Jacob proved to be a phenomenal expert in the 
art of drumming up new markets for their com- 
mercial fertilizers. 

In fact, it was not very long before the two 
young men found that their surplus cash de- 
rived from the works could be used to good ad- 
vantage in improving the squire’s two planta- 
tions of Waccamaw and Bugle Point. The old 
gentleman finally turned over all active man- 
agement of his farms to Paul and Jacob, and re- 
joiced at his own leisure and freedom from 
worry and work. 


320 


SEA ISLAND BOYS. 


Even Annt Europa came to think that this 
union of blue blood and commercial pleheianism 
was not without solidly satisfactory results. 

As for Sona— well, whatever Paul and Ja- 
cob saw fit to do was apt to be all right with 
Sona. Even Sid was pleased to say that Sona 
was * 4 such a downright good fellow that it was 
a pity she was not a boy. ’ ’ 

And Sid’s opinion of girls— as girls— was us- 
ually the reverse of complimentary. 

As for the Sylph— her memory was honored 
in a swifter, finer and larger namesake, that 
won first prize at the race which came off at the 
Thanksgiving Day picnic next following the one 
we have described. 

Jacob wanted to name the new boat “The 
Sona,” but Sona wouldn’t have it. 

“The Sylph is good enough for any boat,” 
she said. 

And 4 4 Sylph ’ r it remained. 


THE END. 


ia 3 1903 












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